


Found and Lost

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-28
Updated: 2008-01-28
Packaged: 2019-02-02 17:58:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: graphic violence - Warning
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12731490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: Daniel is kidnapped and it's up to Jack to find him, but can rescuing him really bring Daniel home?





	Found and Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

Found and Lost  
by Panther

 

The night was silent as the small band of men crept through the darkness. A sky   
full of stars overhead provided only minimal light, making it difficult to tell one man   
from another. However, there was little need for distinguishing members tonight. The   
task ahead was well rehearsed and each man knew his part. On silent feet they crept   
toward the small outcropping of soft-sided shelters the foreigners called home, an odd   
group of identically dressed people who had emerged through the stone circle days ago   
and had been mingling with the Lok'an tribe since then. No one knew where they had   
come from or what they wanted, but for the time being they seemed content to wander   
aimlessly around the village as if seeking something yet unnamed. All except for one.

One man, a tall one said to have eyes the color of the sky, rarely left the house of   
the Ancestors. Hour after hour he inspected the ancient writings, his filthy hands   
touching what was sacred. The Lok'an were simple people; far too trusting of those who   
had no place among them. They didn't know enough to be suspicious of strangers, but   
this small band of outcasts did. They did not like intruders, especially not ones who   
would disturb the place of the Ancestors.

The band belonged to no tribe; called no village home. Existing deep in the   
forest, equidistant from several remote communities they kept to themselves, except on   
nights like tonight. They were the enforcers of ancient law who carried out their duty in   
secret. Never seen or heard, they were known only as a mysterious band of evil spirits   
who acted on behalf of the Ancestors. It was they who inflicted the retribution that   
restored order. It was they who protected the innocent from the wrath of the Ancestors   
by punishing the guilty. Those reluctant to follow the True Ways were known to them   
and dealt with, a warning to the other members of the tribe to mind their actions. The   
Ancestors were watching, through the eyes of the Chosen.

While the group never explained their deeds or publicly announced their mission,   
they believed the faithful understood and would explain it to the others. Rules had been   
broken. The guilty had to be punished. It was the will of the Ancestors. To disobey the   
Ancient Ones’ wishes by withholding punishment would only result in greater suffering   
for the entire tribe. The lack of action would be seen as approval of the blasphemy and   
the guilt would then be spread until the whole of the village was swallowed up in it. That   
could not be allowed. The rains would stop, crops would fail, sickness would come and   
many would die needlessly due to the evil deeds of only one. 

Their purpose was clear, their cause just and on that night it had been decided that   
a stranger who would openly disturb the Sacred Place without remorse or even an attempt   
to hide his actions had to be dealt with swiftly. 

The hours' long journey through the darkness ended in the small shelter of the   
blue eyed blasphemer. Holding him while he slept, a small skin of syrup from the shasa   
tree was held to his lips. The act of forcing his mouth open woke him as it did most of   
their victims, but the liquid was on his tongue before he was aware of what was   
happening. He clawed at them, choking and gasping, but shasa syrup was swift in its   
actions and his struggling ceased almost as quickly as it had begun. 

With the offender unconscious and unlikely to wake for many hours they lifted   
him from his narrow bed and disappeared back into the darkness, their prize carried   
carefully among them. As was the custom, no trace of them was left behind, their trail   
concealed as they went. 

 

XXXXXXX 

"What?" Colonel O'Neill demanded, his face twitching a warning to the Major   
standing in front of him at the base of the stargate's ramp. 

"My men are out looking for him now, Sir, but so far there's no sign of him." 

"Could he have gone back to the Village without telling anyone?" A much calmer   
General Hammond asked. 

"I doubt it, Sir. We've checked with the villagers and gone over the ruins with a   
fine toothed comb. No one's seen him." 

"Is anyone else missing?" 

"Not that we know of. It looks like it's just Dr. Jackson."

"Do the villagers have any explanation?" Hammond asked. 

"We don't really know, Sir." He admitted. "Dr. Jackson is the only one who can   
speak the language. We've been getting by as best we can, but we're not even close to   
being able to have a real conversation with them." 

"Great." Jack groused, his stomach curling into a tight ball. "Request permission   
to join the search." 

"Granted." Hammond nodded. "And take SG-5 with you." 

"Yes, Sir." He turned on his heel and disappeared from the room, storming   
through the halls to gather his team. 

 

XXXXXXX 

Jack squinted at the landscape of a planet that was becoming far too familiar, the   
heat of the afternoon sun forcing him to shed his jacket. For five days they had been   
scouring the landscape searching for Daniel; what had once been a combined effort of   
four SG teams now whittled down to two as Hammond pulled people off the mission to   
resume their normal schedule. 

Despite their determined efforts there had been no sign of Daniel. Not even a trail   
for Teal'c to follow. He had simply vanished from his tent in the middle of the night. No   
one had seen anything. No one had heard anything. No one had any idea where he might   
have gone. The unfortunate Captain who had been on watch that night had no   
explanation either. According to his report there had been no telltale sounds of anyone   
creeping around the camp, no flashes of light from an Asguard beam, and apparently no   
protests from Daniel. It was of little consolation that he had the decency to feel bad about   
the fact that the incident had happened on his watch. Jack’s initial reaction had been a   
barely controlled urge to have him strung up by his dog tags, but a nagging and very   
familiar voice in the back of his head told him that might be a little harsh. Whoever had   
taken Daniel had left no clues behind and no proof they had ever been anywhere near the   
camp. Obviously they were dealing with professionals of some sort, which meant it   
probably wasn’t really the kid’s fault. Still he was aching to come down hard on   
somebody. However, the annoying voice, that sounded an awful lot like Daniel, insisted   
he wait until they had proof that someone was guilty. Then he could yell and scream and   
court marshal to his heart’s content. It was a lovely concept, but the growing frustration   
that none of the locals would admit to knowing anything about the kidnapping was   
gnawing away at him, making calm, logical reasoning about such things a struggle. The   
fact that he was losing the battle with his temper was obvious in the snapping and   
snarling he had been doing for the past few days.

In an act of desperation they had brought Bill Lee through to the planet a few days   
ago in an attempt to communicate with the natives, but he wasn't the linguist Daniel was.   
Three days immersed in their language and his ability to speak it was still minimal at   
best. As usual, the little man’s presence wasn’t helping one iota. All it had managed to   
do was inspire a nearly continual ache in the back of Jack’s head, one that thumped away   
even harder every time the man spoke. 

So far Lee’s best explanation was that it seemed to be some kind of odd, yet   
recurring event. Apparently people sometimes disappeared from the villages, vanishing   
without a trace, never to be heard from again. The local’s couldn’t offer any more of an   
explanation than that. At least not one Bill could understand. It had not been what Jack   
had wanted to hear. Loosely translated, it meant they were on their own when it came to   
finding Daniel. Routine or not, Jack intended to get to the bottom of it with or without the   
locals’ help. He was going to find the missing archaeologist and then take a piece out of   
whoever had had the nerve to kidnap one of his people in the middle of the night. With   
each passing day and each recalled SG team that desire crept a bit closer to desperation. 

Five days was a long time to keep people tied up in a Search and Rescue,   
especially one that wasn’t getting anywhere. They had already poured hundreds of man-  
hours into the effort and had absolutely nothing to show for it. So far Hammond was   
being lenient, but the General’s patience with the situation could expire at any moment.   
In all honesty, Jack was a little surprised the order hadn’t been given already, not that he   
was complaining. He was willing to search for as long as Hammond was willing to allow   
it. The thought that they could be ordered back through the gate, forced to end the search   
before they had gotten to the rescuing part, circled him like a hornet waiting to strike. 

Jack never liked leaving his people to fend for themselves in a bad situation, but   
he liked it even less when it was Daniel. He didn’t play favorites. That wasn’t his style.   
He liked each member of his unit for different reasons and heaven knew he had lost sleep   
over each one of them at some point during the past five years. However, Daniel had the   
ability to scare him like Sam or Teal’c never could. The man was the most potent magnet   
for catastrophe he'd ever met. He attracted bad guys like bears to a picnic, which meant   
that when he got into trouble it was almost always big trouble. 

The fact that after very nearly a week Daniel hadn't turned up on his own didn't   
exactly give Jack a warm, fuzzy feeling about the situation. Obviously he was in some   
kind of mess up to his little blue eyeballs and if they didn’t find him Jack wasn’t sure he   
had much of a chance. He knew Daniel would do his level best to hang on until they got   
there, but they had to get there. 

As much as he loathed the idea, Jack had to admit that it was possible Daniel   
hadn't been found because he was no longer on the planet. It was a concept that had   
occurred to him days ago, one he had been trying hard to reject ever since. Stealing a   
single victim in the middle of the night was not exactly the goa'uld's M.O. They tended   
to swipe people in groups and with much more drama and destruction. Certainly with   
much more evidence left behind. Of course, just because the goa'uld hadn't taken him   
didn't mean Daniel hadn't been dragged through the gate by someone else. In fact,   
dragging hadn’t necessarily even entered into the equation. It could have been the   
Asguard who took him or someone who had gotten their grimy hands on the technology   
that allowed them to snatch people off the face of the planet from orbit. It wasn't a   
concept Jack wanted to entertain. The notion that they were going to have to search half   
a planet to find him was daunting enough. Open that up to half a universe and things   
suddenly crept dangerously close to impossible. Unfortunately, no matter how many   
times he pushed the idea away it would inevitably find its way back to the front of his   
brain, tapping on his skull and demanding attention. He knew the thought had most   
likely occurred to Hammond as well and eventually it would cause the mission to be   
drawn to a close. However, for the time being he was still allowed to search. This planet   
was the last place Daniel had been seen and Jack intended to cover every square inch of   
it.

Moving in an ever widening circle away from the base camp, the small collection   
of remaining soldiers was spread out across the landscape, rapidly approaching the   
twenty-mile marker, the villages having already been searched from top to bottom. Five   
more miles and Jack intended to have them turn around and scout the same area on the   
way back, in case they had missed something the first time. After that, well, he wasn't   
sure what came after that.

"O'Neill." A rumble of a voice from his radio interrupted Jack's contemplation of   
the horizon.

"Go ahead." He instructed, suspecting by the tone of Teal'c's voice that it was   
nothing more than a routine report.

His two remaining units, broken into smaller, two-man teams, had to check in   
every half hour. That was the rule. The last thing he wanted was to lose more people.   
Whoever had taken Daniel might still be out there.

"We have found nothing."

"Roger that. Keep at it."

Resisting the urge to sigh in annoyance and frustration, Jack squared his shoulders   
and forged ahead once again, an incredibly young looking Lieutenant from SG-7   
scouring the ground ahead of him 

Grabbing the mic clipped to his vest as he walked, Jack barked into it. “Lee.” He   
demanded.

"What is it, Colonel?" Came the eventual reply.

"Give me a report. What have you found?"

"Not much really." The man sighed. "I'm over here at a neighboring village, about   
six or seven miles from the Lok'an tribe. Apparently having people disappear isn't   
limited to a single village. They call it a 'vanishing'. It happens once in a while, but   
doesn't seem to be on a set schedule or anything. They do seem kind of edgy about it,   
though. Well, I guess they could just be edgy about some other tribal thing…but I’m   
pretty sure it’s this. I'm still having a little trouble understanding them."

"Do they have an explanation for this 'vanishing' thing?"

"Explanation? Uh, no, Colonel. Well, not much of one. They seem to think it's a   
band of evil spirits. Apparently someone angered the gods or something."

"What 'gods'?" Jack asked suspiciously.

"I don't know. Just 'the gods'." Lee said with an audible shrug. "They don't, uh,   
they don't really seem to have names."

"So what happens to these 'vanished' people?"

"Well I'm guessing from the name that it means, you know, they   
vanish…disappear…poof…never seen again."

"Not what I want to hear, Dr." Jack snarled, practically spitting the title at him.   
"Find out what these people know about where 'the gods' take them and why."

"I'll try, but…"

"I want an answer in an hour." Jack interrupted.

"Yes, uh…yes, Sir, but, uh…." Dr. Lee stammered.

“O’Neill out.” Jack concluded before the man could finish his rambling reply.

Great. So Daniel was being held hostage by a gaggle of no named gods who   
made it a habit of snatching people from their beds in the middle of the night. Oddly   
enough he would have felt better if it had been the goa'uld. At least he knew where to   
find them.

"O'Neill." The booming voice returned dragging a hint of hope with it.

"What have you got, Teal'c?"

"I have found a faint trail." He announced sounding rather pleased with himself.

"Human?" Jack asked eagerly.

"It would appear so."

"Can you follow it?"

"Indeed."

"Where are you?" He asked, fighting the urge to celebrate just yet. 

It could still be nothing. Teal'c gave him the location and Jack ordered the rest of   
the teams to keep searching. There was no point pulling everybody in if this turned out to   
be a dead end.

 

XXXXXXX

Janet jumped when she heard the claxons sound in the infirmary, strobes she   
couldn’t see from her office flashing in the corridors to tell anyone not already aware,   
that something was happening. 

"Off world activation." Sergeant Harriman's familiar voice announced over the   
loudspeaker. 

Determinedly Janet stayed at her desk firmly gripping the edge, her heart   
pounding even as she tried to convince herself that there was nothing to get excited about.   
Walter hadn’t said it was an unscheduled activation, which meant that if she checked her   
copy of the daily schedule she would find an entry naming the team that was about to   
come wandering into her infirmary. There were no shouts of alarm in the hall, no   
thundering of feet as soldiers bolted for the gate room, and no call for a medical team. It   
was nothing worth getting excited about. Nevertheless, she could feel the adrenaline   
surging in her veins despite the calm logic. Heart hammering in her chest Janet waited,   
holding her breath. Seconds passed until the hand on the clock had finally counted out a   
full minute and still there was no request for a medical team. Obviously it was nothing   
but a routine mission coming to a close. It wasn’t Daniel. 

Chastising herself, Janet loosened her grip on the desk and took a deep breath,   
trying to still the feeling of profound disappointment and determinedly shutting off the   
tears that were threatening. She had a job to do and as the head physician of the most   
top-secret project on the planet she wasn’t about to do it with tears running down her   
face. Forcefully she pushed back from her desk and closed the file in front of her with a   
slap before taking a moment to straighten her uniform and don her lab coat, the   
annoyance with herself thankfully overshadowing her growing despair. She wasn’t going   
to be any good to anyone if she kept letting the routine activities of the SGC send her into   
a panic. Announcements blared over the loudspeaker all the time. The claxons went off   
at least a dozen times a day. It didn’t mean anything. It was just part of the routine and   
her part in that routine was to be a calm, collected professional. With a quiet huff at the   
thought of just how far she was from that description, Janet stopped with her hand on the   
doorknob. She was fighting a losing battle and she knew it. Tears once again   
threatening, she shook her head in an attempt to scatter the thoughts that were gathering. 

Daniel had been listed officially Missing In Action two days ago. She knew it   
didn’t mean the end of the search or the end of any reasonable hope that they would find   
him, but it had been five days. She knew the kind of trouble he was capable of getting   
into. She had seen it first hand, having stitched and bandaged the proof on more than one   
occasion. Five days without any trace of him was a very bad sign. While she was still   
holding on to hope with both hands, every day that passed made it more difficult to   
imagine him coming back to her in anything other than little pieces. She was doing her   
best to be strong, to hold herself together for Cassie’s sake, if no one else, but it was a   
minute to minute struggle. 

As the first soldier of the newly returned team found his way into the infirmary,   
Janet squared her shoulders and commanded herself one last time to get it together. A   
lecture that was half pep talk and half drill sergeant’s tirade running through her head, she   
opened the door and stepped out into the main infirmary, a confident smile plastered   
firmly on her face. 

It took less than an hour to finish examining and collecting samples from the five   
man team known as SG-15 before they were sent for their precautionary CT scans.   
While it wasn’t an activity that kept her occupied for any substantial amount of time, it   
had given her a small reprieve from her thoughts and a chance to settle her nerves once   
again. Determinedly keeping her mind focused on the job, she collected SG-15’s charts   
and carried them to the nurses' station, stacking them in the basket designated for files   
awaiting test results, her clinical comments already noted. 

Janet rubbed at a knot in her neck and glanced at the clock, disappointed to find   
that it was only 10:30. It was too early for a lunch break, but since she hadn’t gotten   
around to eating breakfast maybe a trip to the commissary for a cup of coffee was in   
order. At the very least it would waste some time. Notifying one of the nurses that she   
was leaving, she stuffed her stethoscope in her lab coat pocket and headed for the hall. 

She was less than three feet from the infirmary doors when the klaxons went off   
again, startling her and shattering the relative calm she had finally managed to gather.   
General Hammond had suggested days ago that she take some time off, apparently   
having noted the strain in her face. She had determinedly refused, telling herself that   
there were people on base who needed her. However, if the truth be told, it was more the   
thought of sitting in the quiet of her house thinking about things she was better off not   
thinking about that kept her at work. Nevertheless, with her heart once again racing in   
her chest, a hand rested on the wall to steady herself, she was starting to think that   
perhaps the General had a point. If she went to pieces every time the alarms went off she   
wasn’t really going to be of much use to those people who supposedly needed her. One   
of these days the anxiety was going to get the better of her and she was going to burst   
into a humiliating bout of hysterical tears right there in the middle of her infirmary.   
She was still wrestling with the concept when the intercom system came to life

"Unscheduled off world activation!" came the urgent announcement, inspiring the   
sound of heavy boots clomping on the concrete floor further down the hall as a small herd   
of soldiers headed for the gate room. 

Resisting the urge to run after them, Janet turned her back to the infirmary once   
more and forced herself to continue toward the commissary, insisting to her chaotic mind   
that whatever it was, it wasn’t Daniel. Obviously it was an emergency of some kind, but   
that didn't mean it was O'Neill's team. There were more than a dozen other units off   
world. It could be any one of them. Ordering her feet to keep moving in the opposite   
direction, she walked toward the elevator telling herself that if the call for a medical team   
came she would go, but until then there was no point getting her hopes up yet again. The   
disappointment was just too devastating. 

Her pulse racing, Janet fought against a sudden onslaught of tears, something that   
was becoming an annoyingly common event. This was too much. She couldn't keep   
doing this day in and day out, pretending she was strong enough to hold it together.   
Maybe it really was time to admit that General Hammond had a point about taking time   
off. As she almost reluctantly dragged herself to the elevator door and pushed the button   
Janet decided she would consider it over her cup of coffee and then drop by his office on   
the way back to the infirmary. Clinging to the heel of that idea was the realization that   
the few quiet minutes of sipping coffee had nothing to do with continuing to consider the   
offer. It was just to buy her the time to swallow her pride enough to admit defeat. The   
trembling hands clenched tightly inside the pockets of her lab coat were evidence that she   
was at the end of her rope. The inevitable nervous breakdown was just around the corner.

“Medical team to the gate room on the double!" Sergeant Harriman suddenly   
demanded, shaking Janet from her thoughts. 

She turned in the direction of the infirmary wondering if she had somehow   
imagined it when the racket of thundering feet once again echoed through the hall.   
Instantly, heart in her throat, she sprinted back toward the infirmary, lab coat billowing   
around her. Praying it was Daniel, nearly hysterical with hope she caught up with the   
medical team a few feet past the infirmary and joined them in a mad dash to the gate   
room, an empty gurney being pushed ahead of them. With considerable effort she jerked   
her emotions back under control. Whether it was him or not she was going to need a   
clear head to deal with whatever had just tumbled through the Stargate. If it really wasn’t   
Daniel, and it very well might not be, she was going to have to steel herself against the   
flood of disappointment that would most certainly follow. She couldn’t afford to waste   
precious moments coming apart at the seams, no matter how minimally, when someone’s   
life hung in the balance. 

As the open blast door of the Gate Room came into view Janet felt like she was   
being held together by the thinnest thread of sanity and prayed it would hold long enough   
to get her through one last false alarm. Clamping down on the almost overwhelming   
feeling of weariness, she slid determinedly into her role as Chief Medical Officer and did   
her best to expel the thoughts of Daniel from her mind. She could go to pieces in a quiet   
corner somewhere later. Right now she had to focus.

As was always the case with an incoming medical emergency, the gate room was   
a tangle of people and equipment: men and women in uniform swarming around the   
ramp, loaded packs tossed aside, the medical team trying to push their way into the fray.   
In this particular scenario they had the added complication of a very determined looking   
Colonel standing half way up the ramp barking orders at everyone within hearing. Janet's   
heart nearly stopped at the sight of him as she tried ineffectually to convince herself that   
this still had nothing to do with Daniel.

 

“Watch it, Captain.” O'Neill growled to a member of the rescue team.  
“Sir, I was just trying to…”

“I don’t care. Let the pros handle it.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Close the iris! I don’t need somebody coming through on top of us. Doc, get   
that thing over here.” He snarled, nodding to the gurney. “Everybody who doesn’t need   
to be here clear out!”

“Let’s just calm down, Colonel.” Janet soothed as much to herself as to him in a  
voice that she found surprisingly steady.

At his command several members of the rescue team stepped to the side heading   
toward the door if not actually going through it. Weaving between soldiers, Janet made   
her way to the already crowded ramp with a lump in her throat, hands trembling, the   
gurney abandoned on the other side of the room. 

Despite her best efforts to avoid the subject completely, Janet had imagined how   
she would react when they brought Daniel back through the gate still alive. The part of   
her mind prone to fantasy envisioned throwing her arms around him and collapsing into a   
sobbing puddle of emotion in his arms. The more realistic side imagined something a bit   
more appropriate for the CMO of the SGC with a restrained picture of her holding tightly   
to his hand as they rolled him toward the infirmary to tend to his wounds. However, any   
rehearsed plans she might have had gave way instantly to nothing more than gut reaction   
when she finally elbowed her way to the ramp. There in a disheveled looking heap was   
an apparently unconscious Daniel Jackson and for a moment her pounding heart stopped.   
Struggling to catch her breath, she collapsed on her knees beside him, unconcerned by the   
small metal prongs of the ramp digging into her skin.

“Daniel…” she gasped before clarity invaded the chaotic tangle of thoughts in her   
head long enough to remind her that she had an audience. This was not the time or place   
to go to pieces. Dragging herself with considerable effort back into her role as physician   
she picked up where Colonel O'Neill had left off, barking orders to a room full of people. 

“I need some room here people.” She insisted to the still hovering soldiers as she   
waved her team closer to the ramp. “Let’s get him on the gurney and be careful, there   
may be internal injuries and broken bones. I want the portable x-ray and stand by with a   
crash cart.” She commanded, in a voice that was no longer quite as steady.

Her mouth continued to spout instructions as they carefully loaded Daniel onto   
the gurney, but her mind was nearly stunned to silence by what she was seeing. He was   
unconscious, filthy, hair matted and greasy, shirt shredded under the jacket someone had   
draped around him and he stunk to high heaven. There were cuts and bruises on his face   
camouflaged by a layer of dirt and grime. However, all of that took a back seat to the   
most important detail: he was alive. Though, the fact that he wasn't responding to the   
chaos around him wasn’t a good sign. 

Flashing a penlight quickly into his eyes to check his pupil response, she began   
making clinical notes in her head, doing her best to let the analytical side of her take   
control as the rest of her threatened to crumble. He could have been out cold because of   
a fall or perhaps because someone had beaten him unconscious. It could also have been   
because he was quite simply exhausted from the ordeal. She wouldn't know for sure until   
she got him to the infirmary.

“Let's move people!” she ordered and without hesitation the group reversed   
direction and sped back toward the infirmary with a trail of soldiers behind.

They settled Daniel in an exam room on the far side of the infirmary and set to   
work, nurses buzzing around the bed at Janet's command, O’Neill, Sam and Teal’c   
waiting silently near the door, out of the way, but not out of sight.

“Was he conscious when you found him, Colonel?” she asked.

“No.” Jack admitted, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“He’s been in an out.” Sam added. “Mumbling a little, but nothing we could   
understand.”

Janet nodded at the information and shifted into high gear.

“Start a glucose drip and let’s get these clothes off…Captain Aims bring me a   
hazmat bag for his uniform…Where are the scissors? Come on people, let’s   
move…Thank you…Sergeant Miller get me a pair of clean scrubs and some warm   
blankets…”

Daniel’s shirt was nothing more than strips of rag attached by a collar around his   
neck and a quick snip of the scissors had it loosened. While he had been completely   
unresponsive until that moment, he suddenly came to life when one of the nurses tried to   
tug the rag out from under him. In an instant his eyes were open. One arm flailing, the   
other held tightly to his chest, a brief howl of pain escaped him before being quickly   
choked off. Two nurses on the opposite side of the gurney were taken by surprise as he   
swung at them, jumping back a few steps before managing to grab hold of him and pin   
him to the mattress. His free arm held securely to the gurney, Daniel stopped moving,   
frozen in place, his body tense.

“Daniel it’s ok. You’re safe. It’s all over.” Janet assured him, however, her   
attempts to sooth him had little effect as he laid panting, eyes wide.

“Can you tell me where you are?” she asked as a nurse took advantage of his   
restrained arm and began swabbing a patch clean for the IV.

“I’m…I’m, uh…” he rasped, as he inspected the ceiling in a way that made Janet   
wonder what he was actually seeing, eyes darting back and forth across the tiles. 

“Captain Lavers will you bring me some ice chips and a spoon?” Janet said.

“Infirmary.” Daniel finally managed.

“Can you tell me your name?”

“Daniel…Jackson.”

“What year is it, Daniel?”

“It’s uh, 2…2002.”

“Good and who am I?” she asked, confident he knew the answers, but asking   
them anyway in an attempt to help him comprehend the fact that the trauma was over. 

"J…Janet." He swallowed, shifting his focus from the tiles to her face, tears   
pooling in his eyes. Janet nodded and smiled back at him, struggling against tears of her   
own and stroking his matted hair with a gloved hand.

"Right." She said around the lump in her throat. "It's over. You're safe." She   
assured him watching as the tension drained from him and he melted into the gurney. 

The IV needle prick, however, had a less than soothing effect, shattering his calm   
demeanor. Instantly tense, eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and confusion, his   
breath came in short gasps as he tried to curl himself into a protective ball.

“It’s alright, Daniel, it’s only an IV. We’re not going to hurt you.”

It seemed to take a long moment for the thought to register, but slowly, cautiously   
he settled again, though his eyes continued to dart around the room apparently no longer   
certain of his safety. She rested a hand on his arm to sooth him, disturbed when he   
flinched at her touch. 

“We’re going to cut these fatigues off, alright?” she explained, determined to   
finish the examination, but deciding that a play by play of things as they were happening   
was in order. Obviously at the moment he didn’t like surprises. “Colonel would you   
mind stepping out of the room for a few minutes?” She said, casting a glance at the   
concerned group near the door; a group that seemed determined not to move. “Please,   
let’s give him at least a little privacy. You can come back in when we’re through.”

Reluctantly the three filtered out of the room ushered by a nurse who closed the   
door firmly in their faces. Janet slit the sides of both legs of Daniel’s tattered pants and   
removed the top layer, covering him with a warm cotton blanket before deftly doing the   
same to his soiled boxers. He was dehydrated and thin with bruises scattered liberally   
across his body, but so far she hadn’t run across anything horrifying. His left shoulder   
seemed to be his worst injury, swollen and badly bruised, a very gentle inspection   
revealing that it was dislocated. 

"Daniel…look at me." She said attempting to snag his attention, his eyes still   
roaming the exam room, anxiety wrinkling his face. "Does your shoulder hurt?" He   
nodded, staring back at her with a look that could almost be called suspicion. "How long   
has it been bothering you?"

"I don’t know." He admitted.

"We'll have to put that back in." she mumbled to herself, shifting her focus from   
his face to his shoulder.

"No. Don't touch it." He warned, fear shifting his heart rate into high gear, the   
monitor beside his bed broadcasting the change loud and clear. "Please."

"It's alright." She soothed, refocusing her attention on his fearful blue eyes and   
speaking around the returned lump in her throat. "You won't feel a thing, I promise." She   
assured him, intending to wait until he was unconscious before repositioning the   
shoulder. "Let's give him three mils of Morphine." She ordered.

Continuing with the process of cataloging injuries the group gently rolled him   
onto his good shoulder to pull the tattered and soiled clothes out from under him when   
another rather unpleasant surprise presented itself.

"Dr. Frasier, you need to see this." One of the nurses said, staring at his back.

"What is it?" she asked. Coming around the other side of the gurney, her heart   
nearly stopping in her chest as her steps faltered. 

Daniel’s front might not have looked too bad aside from a black eye, split lip and   
collection of bruises, but his back was a patchwork of cuts and large patches beaten raw,   
some of them new enough to still be bleeding. A collection of easily visible wounds and   
bruises in various stages of healing marred his back, continuing across his buttocks and   
down his legs. What she had thought to be only small cuts on his sides were in reality the   
tail end of gashes torn into his back. Her stomach churning with building rage, Janet   
gingerly removed the remains of his clothes and threw them angrily in the hazmat bag.

“Help me get him on his stomach.” She croaked, clearing her throat. “Carefully.”

Readjusting the IV and the blankets and taking special care with his injured   
shoulder they rested Daniel face down on the gurney, leaving his lower half covered. 

“Have Captain Miller set up the sink in the decontamination room.” She stated.   
“We need to wash his hair and bring me a basin of water and some towels to clean him   
up a bit.”

“What should I tell the Colonel?” A nurse asked as she headed for the door only   
to find Jack’s face practically plastered to the window.

“Tell him we need to clean him up. He can see him when we’re finished.”

XXXXXXX

It had taken them over an hour to get Daniel cleaned and bandaged. Despite their   
best efforts to do it carefully nearly every place on him from head to foot was tender.   
Even washing his hair had him gritting his teeth in pain. Finally cleaned and dressed they   
had settled him on a gurney with an IV pouring fluids into him. An additional dose of   
morphine had him drifting quickly to sleep and gave Janet the opportunity to finally reset   
his shoulder and take a series of x-rays. As promised he hadn't felt a thing.

With him tucked safely away in a quiet corner of the main infirmary Janet   
retreated to her office to begin filling out a new page in his already extensive file. What   
she wanted was to climb into bed with him, wrap herself around him and bawl like a   
child, but she refused to turn loose of her emotions until she could do so away from   
prying eyes, and with the luxury of having several hours to put herself back together.   
The restraint, however, wasn’t easily accomplished, as the pounding in her head clearly   
testified.

Daniel was finally home: tired, wounded and malnourished, but very much alive.   
Still getting him cleaned up had been no picnic for anyone, especially Daniel. He had   
always been good with pain, but while his level of discomfort would normally have been   
met with a stiff upper lip, the trauma and the physical exhaustion had broken down most   
of his defenses. As a result he had shed a silent though steady stream of tears through a   
good deal of the procedure punctuated by the occasional yelp when they hadn’t been   
careful enough. Janet had done her best to give orders around the lump in her throat,   
holding her own tears at bay by sheer determination, but the ordeal had left her feeling   
fragile and worn. 

Sighing heavily to herself as she attempted to make clinically detached notes in   
his chart, she had to admit that if ever in her career she had needed a good stiff drink at   
the end of a shift this was the day.

A knock on her open office door tore her attention away from the page in front of   
her and glancing up she found a very tired looking Colonel standing in the doorway.   
After nearly a week of trekking endless miles across a foreign planet fueled by little more   
than determination he had every right to look as if he'd aged ten years in that span of   
time. 

“How is he?” he asked, collapsing into a chair when Janet motioned him in.

“A mess.” she sighed. “But I think most of it’s superficial. He has a bruised   
kidney and some pulled ligaments in his shoulder, but that seems to be the worst of it. As   
long as infection doesn’t set in in the wounds on his back he should be fine in a couple of   
weeks.”

Jack nodded slowly, fingers laced on his stomach, long legs stretched out in front   
of him, and a dark scowl on his face. 

“Where…” she swallowed. “Where did you find him?”

“You don’t want to know.” Jack replied quietly, looking back at her.

“Yes, I do.”

It was Jack’s turn to sigh. “In a tiny little bug infested hut over twenty miles from   
the gate.” He snarled quietly. 

“And the men who took him?”

“Bastard head cases. The tribes don't have a central government so there's no   
official way to deal with them. The best we could do was turn them over to one of the   
chiefs. Hammond’s chalking it up to guerrilla activity, labeling the place off limits and   
leaving it at that.”

“I don’t guess there’s much else we can do.” She admitted quietly.

“Oh I don’t know about that.”

Janet studied him for a long moment. She knew about his history in Iraq and had   
a fairly good idea what he wanted to do to the men who had treated one of his closest   
friends so badly, but they both knew General Hammond was right. Officially there was   
nothing to do, but walk away.

“Why don’t you go home and get some rest, Colonel.” She suggested gently. “I   
can give you something to help you sleep if you’d like.”

“No. I’m alright.” He said, hefting himself up from the chair with what looked   
like considerable effort. “Thanks, Doc.” He offered with an attempt at a smile.

“Thank you.” She said, sincerity threatening to overwhelm the façade that was   
already dangerously close to shattering.

Jack nodded and disappeared leaving Janet alone again. Suddenly she was in no   
mood for paperwork. Pushing back from her desk she wandered across the infirmary to   
the bed in the corner where Daniel lay sleeping. Silently she settled onto the gurney   
beside him and sat studying him intently, his hand held securely in both of hers. 

The question of what had happened to him was no longer a mystery. He had   
survived long enough to be brought home, but obviously it had been no day at the beach.   
The proof was mapped out across his body. Judging by the look of him they had given   
him very little water, fed him less and beaten him liberally. In fact, the only mystery that   
remained was why and she wondered if even Daniel knew the answer to that one. 

Gently stroking his hair, she watched him sleeping, taking comfort in the steady   
rise and fall of his chest. His breath hitched in his sleep and a faint scowl creased his   
bruised face as he slowly rolled away from her, turning onto his good side with a deep   
sigh, his hand sliding from her grip. Janet gently caressed his cheek knowing the drugs in   
his system would keep him from waking at her touch. Shaking her head, she couldn’t   
help thinking back over the dozens of times she had pieced him back together; the   
countless stitches, injections, scans, x-rays, and examinations that made up most of their   
history together. For a man who spent most of his life with his nose in a book he   
certainly knew how to find trouble when he put his mind to it. If she only knew where to   
find the little piece of him that led him so determinedly into catastrophe she would have   
removed it when she had taken out his appendix. 

Kissing him gently on the temple, Janet climbed back down from the bed feeling   
a bit less fragile, though no less exhausted, and headed for the phone to check in with   
Cassie. 

 

XXXXXXX

 

Daniel shuffled past Janet into the house as she stood holding the front door open.   
He’d never been so glad to be home in his life, even if it wasn’t his house. After three   
days of being cooped up in the infirmary he was ready to be someplace that didn’t smell   
like disinfectant or have a steady stream of nurses checking his pulse, fiddling with his   
IV, taking his temperature, changing his bandages, etc. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate   
the way they dutifully watched over him, someone hovering around him every thirty   
minutes like clockwork, he had just grown weary of being constantly messed with. 

“We’re home.” Janet announced, closing the door behind them. Cassie’s dog,   
Jellybean, having already made the discovery on his own, wiggling his sausage shaped   
body across the floor in a doggy dance of excitement. 

“Daniel!” Cassie squealed as she came bounding down the stairs, stopping a few   
steps away from him rather than simply throwing herself at him as was her normal   
custom. “Welcome home.” She added, pointing to the colorfully decorated sign hanging   
in the living room.

“Thank you, Cass.” He smiled. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” She shrugged. “How’s your arm?” she asked eyeing the contraption   
that held his left arm securely to his body.

“It’s been better.” He admitted.

“Come on, let’s get you settled.” Janet urged, a hand rested gently on his lower   
back, ushering him further into the house. “We’ve got the guestroom all made up for   
you.”

“Can we stop here for a while?” Daniel asked as she attempted to hustle him past   
the living room. 

Thankfully there wasn’t much wrong with his legs. He could get around on his   
own pretty well, but the bruises on the soles of his feet kept him from doing it   
comfortably, even in his tennis shoes. The dozens of other bruises up and down his legs   
that protested the movement combined with the fact that he ran out of steam after only a   
few steps made walking any further than in little circles by his bed an ordeal. The trek   
from the complex to Janet’s car had been enough on its own. Adding the short jaunt from   
the car into the house was almost more than he could do. Stairs were pretty much out of   
the question for the time being.

“Sure. How about the couch?” Janet agreed.

“Perfect.”

“Cassie will you run upstairs and get him a pillow?”

“Sure thing.” She said, dashing back up the steps.

“I don’t need a pillow.” He protested. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be more comfortable.” Janet said helping him ease himself onto the   
couch.

“Comfortable is not exactly an option right now.” Daniel sighed, slowly, carefully   
leaning back against the cushions. 

“I know you hate to be babied,” she acknowledged, sitting on the coffee table in   
front of him. “but you’re not in any shape to be taking care of yourself yet.”

“I know.” He frowned.

“Besides, we care about you and we want to help.”

“I know that, too.”

“But, we’ll do our best to keep the mothering to a minimum, ok?”

“Thank you.” He smiled.

“No promises.” She admitted as Cassie came back down the stairs with a pillow   
and blanket.

“Here you go.” Cassie announced. “I brought you the fuzzy one.” She added,   
holding up a green blanket.

“Thanks, Honey.” Janet said taking them from her. “You ready?” she asked   
Daniel.

“In a minute.” He said resting his head against the back of the couch and closing   
his eyes. The process of lying down was no longer as simple as it used to be. In fact, that   
went for sitting up, sitting down, standing up, walking, the list went on. Everything on   
him hurt and moving hurt more, though thanks to Janet’s pain pills it wasn’t as bad as it   
had been.

“Are you hungry?” Janet asked as he gathered the energy to stretch out on the   
couch.

“No.” he admitted. “Not really.”

“I made ham and cheese sandwiches.” Cassie informed him, hoping to tempt him   
with one of his favorites.

“Thank you, Cass.” He smiled, opening his eyes. “Maybe later.”

That was, of course, assuming Janet would let him eat such a thing. Food was a   
concept he'd only recently been reintroduced to after a week of eating nothing at all. For   
the last two days his meals had consisted of cream of rice cereal, applesauce and jello,   
though Jack had eaten most of the jello for him. Jack seemed to have a thing for food   
that wiggled, something Daniel suspected was tied to his fondness for fishing.

Presumably Daniel was going to be allowed to work his way up to real cuisine   
some time in the not too distant future, but at the moment he had no idea how long it   
would be before that happened. Not that he really minded. Food didn’t hold much   
interest for him lately. 

Having gathered as much strength as he assumed he was going to, Daniel eased   
himself down onto the couch, jaw clenched, moving as quickly as he could in an effort to   
get it over with. Sleeping in the sling wasn’t exactly comfortable, but at the moment he   
didn’t care. It wasn't worth the hassle of taking it off and after the morning’s activities he   
didn’t think falling asleep was going to be much of a problem.

“Do you want the TV on?” Cassie asked as Janet carefully removed his shoes,   
well aware of the wounds he was hiding under his socks.

“Sure.” He said, knowing he wouldn’t be awake long enough for it to make a   
difference. Still, for the time being silence bothered him. It made it too easy to forget   
where he was. The normal sounds of life buzzing around him served as a constant   
reminder, even with his eyes closed, that he was back on Earth. The nightmare was over. 

“Not too loud, Honey.” Janet advised, covering him with a blanket. “He needs to   
sleep.”

“How’s that?” Cassie asked, remote in hand.

“That’s fine. Thank you.” Daniel said, eyes sliding closed.

“Good night.” Janet leaned down and kissed him gently on the mouth, taking   
great care with his still healing lip.

“Night Daniel.” Cassie said, taking her turn and kissing him gently on the cheek.   
“I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too.” He smiled sleepily.

 

XXXXXX

 

It was dark, the room only dimly lit from the sun making its way through the   
small window in the battered wooden door. As usual he was huddled in the far corner,   
curled up on his side on the dirt floor. He had no idea what time it was, what day it was   
or how long he’d been there. In the beginning he’d tried to keep track, but after a few   
days had given up, finding the exercise to be futile at best not to mention depressing. In   
this place time wasn’t marked by the passage of the sun. It flowed only from   
interrogation to interrogation, though Daniel was no longer certain "interrogation" was   
the right word. After all, that implied questions being asked and at least some form of   
response given. After the first day there had been no questions only beatings. 

Sometimes they came only once between the settings of the sun, when his world   
was plunged into total darkness, the sound of insects and the scurrying feet of small   
animals keeping him company. Sometimes they came twice. Sometimes they didn’t   
come at all. How long he’d been held captive no longer mattered much. His only   
concern was how long they would leave him in peace before coming again with sticks   
and fists and the single shackle that suspended him from the ceiling by one arm, an arm   
that now throbbed constantly. 

Daniel could hear them coming long before he saw the shadow of feet under the   
heavy wooden door and the drifting of his thoughts ground instantly to a halt. Heart   
racing in anticipation, he struggled to sit up and wedged himself further into the corner of   
the clay wall, turning his good arm toward them hoping to postpone the moment when   
they grabbed his injured one again. It always made him scream and he hated making it so   
obviously known when they hurt him, though by this point there wasn’t a place on him   
anywhere that wasn’t sore. Of course, after jerking him very nearly off his feet and   
hanging him from the ceiling anything else they did to him was minor, the pain in his   
shoulder keeping the receptors in his brain more than occupied, at least temporarily.

The door flew open and Daniel tucked himself into a tight ball, hands covering his   
head, the horrible ritual beginning again. As always, a single thought was lodged firmly   
in his mind as they strode toward him, hurling insults in their native tongue: Jack was   
coming. He just had to hold out for one more beating. Jack was coming. 

Dragged to his feet and the shackle secured tightly around the wrist of his injured   
arm Daniel braced himself for what he knew was about to happen. He looked away as   
the scruffy man with the half rotted teeth attached the rope to an eye in the heavy metal   
cuff, grinning at him. 

“Don't do this.” Daniel begged in their native language, one he had learned some   
time ago. “Please. What do you want?”

One last insult from the man with the rotted teeth and another man across the   
room gave the rope a sudden yank, Daniel’s arm jerking toward the pulley on the ceiling,   
the rest of his body following until he was balanced on the balls of his feet.

“No!” he shrieked, his shoulder exploding into a fireball of pain. “Let me down!”   
he howled. “Please! Let me down!”

The man with the stick only scowled at him, showing his disgust with Daniel’s   
pleading by spitting at him. A thick, round piece of wood held in his hands like a   
baseball bat, the man swung at him striking him solidly in the ribs partially knocking the   
wind out of him. Daniel swayed from the force of the blow, groaning as the movement   
registered in his shoulder much more than his side.

"Daniel."

Daniel stared back at the man, momentarily distracted from the pain by the fact   
that the man had used his name. Uncertain what it meant, he cringed in anticipation as   
the stick came at him again, striking him low on the stomach and connecting with his hip   
bone. Struggling against the urge to curl into a ball, Daniel gasped for air, the blows   
coming harder and faster as the man slowly circled him as if he were nothing more than a   
very lifelike pinata.

“Daniel, open your eyes.” The voice commanded as he hung gasping for air,   
small, high pitched whines escaping him despite his efforts to control them. He turned   
his head in confusion, trying to see the man who had taken a position behind him,   
pausing in the assault only long enough to change implements of torture. Pushing aside   
the panic at the notion that the next sensation he felt would be the stinging of the whip, he   
struggled to identify the voice. It was a sound he recognized, but somehow it didn’t   
belong in this place. 

“I’m going to give you something for the pain. You’ll feel a little pinch and that’s   
all.”

Daniel rubbed at his face with his free hand, digging fingers into his eyes   
desperately trying to make sense of the kind voiced apparently coming from a very cruel   
man. Was this a new trick? Some kind of mind game designed to torment him? The   
man behind him growled an instant before the whip struck, the sting forcing Daniel’s   
eyes open again and hurling the thoughts from his mind. 

As the room once again swam into view everything changed. The hut was gone,   
the men were gone, there was only Janet with a worried looking Cassie standing a few   
steps behind her.

“Here we go.” Janet warned a moment before the promised pinch, Daniel   
flinching, his body anticipating another strike of the whip. “There that’s the worst of it.”   
Glancing around the room in confusion his eyes finally found hers. “It’s alright. You’re   
safe.” She assured him with a warm smile as she gently stroked his arm, his hand held   
securely in hers. "It was just a dream."

Daniel swallowed hard and collapsed back against the couch, the tension flowing   
out of him, his shoulder still throbbing in time with his pounding heart. Desperately   
clutching at the version of reality he sincerely hoped wasn’t just a dream, he eagerly   
absorbed his surroundings: the sound of the TV, the barely heard chiming of the clock on   
the mantle, the feel of the couch under him, the sensation of Janet’s hand on his skin.

“It’s over. It was just a dream.” She repeated. 

“Is he ok?” Cassie asked, her voice tight and small.

“I think so.” Janet answered without taking her eyes off him. 

Daniel’s galloping heart finally slowing, he pushed the remnants of the dream   
aside and struggled to sit up.

“Take it easy.” Janet warned. “That drug is going to kick in in a second.”

“I need to get up.” He insisted. He wanted to move around, get his blood flowing,   
clear his head a little to get away from the dream. More importantly he needed to take a leak.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He replied, which was only partly true. He was sure he wanted to get up,   
but whether or not he would be able to was a different thing altogether. He felt shaky and   
drained, every nerve in his body still vibrating with adrenaline despite the fact that his   
muscles seemed to have all the strength of overcooked spaghetti. 

Without waiting for her permission he wrestled himself into a sitting position and   
tried to struggle to his feet, Janet tucking herself under his good arm, helping him up. He   
wobbled for a moment, swaying dangerously before finally getting his balance and   
turning toward the stairs. Janet must have understood his intentions because she put an   
arm around his waist and helped him shuffle across the floor without protest. Creeping   
toward the stairs on his stiff and sore legs, he climbing them one difficult step at a time.

Once in the privacy of the bathroom Daniel huddled down to the sink and   
splashed water on his face as best he could with one hand. Reaching for a towel he   
barely glanced at his black eye in the mirror before drying his face. Still, even from the   
brief glimpse of his reflection he could see that the face in the mirror looked spooked, as   
if any sudden movement or loud noise would have the man he barely recognized coming   
right out of his skin. It wasn’t far from the truth. 

He was home. It was over. He knew that, but the terror still clung to him,   
dreadful anticipation making him tense and skittish. The smell of that place had hung in   
his nose even over the antiseptic aroma of the infirmary, the awful stench trailing him   
wherever he went. It was the smell of terror and death. The rank odor had accosted him   
the moment he had awakened in the hut that first day, testimony to the fact that he hadn't   
been the first person to endure the beatings. In fact, if it hadn't been for the rescue team   
he wouldn't have been the first person to die there either. 

Janet had given him a couple of sponge baths while he’d been in the infirmary   
and washed his hair, but it hadn’t been enough to make him feel clean. He’d begged her   
for a shower, but she’d refused because of the wounds on his back. She was afraid of   
infection and insisted that washing oil from his hair into them would be taking too big a   
risk. He could shower six times a day if he wanted once they healed. Until then he had   
to be careful. He kept telling himself she was right, but every nightmare made the desire   
stronger. 

Daniel cast a longing look at the bathtub on the other side of the room and sighed.   
All he had to do was lock the door and climb in. However, Janet would kill him and as   
the floor in the room tilted sideways he realized he might not actually have the strength to   
pull it off any way. Staggering to the toilet he emptied his bladder with a small sigh of   
relief before returning to the sink to awkwardly wash his hand, pointedly ignoring the   
beckoning shower.

“Everything alright?” Janet asked when he finally emerged.

“Pretty much.” He replied heading once again for the stairs.

“Since we’re already up here,” Janet said, stopping him after the first step “why   
don’t we set you up in the guest room. It’s closer to the bathroom and the bed is probably   
more comfortable than the couch.”

Daniel stood contemplating the idea for a minute, not sure what he wanted to do.   
She was right, the bed would be more comfortable and if they closed the door it would   
guarantee Jellybean wouldn’t be crawling all over him. Not to mention not having to   
climb the stairs every time he had to pee, which was a definite selling point. However, it   
would also mean he’d be more isolated, tucked away at the back of the house only near   
Janet and Cassie when they were asleep. He didn’t like the idea much. He didn't want to   
be alone.

“The couch is fine.” He said, heading for the stairs.

“Come on,” Janet urged, putting an arm around his waist and steering him in the   
other direction “it has clean sheets and everything.”

Daniel would have continued protesting if it weren’t for the fact that, as promised   
the drug Janet had given him had already taken effect. He was sliding rapidly toward   
exhaustion, his shoulder pleasantly quiet and his legs refusing to follow instructions,   
threatening to dump him in a heap on the floor. It was a struggle just to keep his eyes   
open as they made their way to the guestroom down the hall.

“Almost there.” She informed him as he leaned heavily on her. “Just a couple   
more steps.”

With the bed in sight Daniel forced himself to keep moving, collapsing eagerly,   
though carefully onto it the moment it was within reach. He heard Janet say something to   
him, but couldn’t tell what it was, his brain refusing to translate the sound. The sensation   
of her lips momentarily on his was the last thing that registered before he gave in   
completely to sleep.

XXXXXXX

Janet eased out of the room leaving the door open. If he woke again she wanted   
to hear it, not that she'd had any trouble hearing him the last time. Her hands were still   
trembling from the sudden rush of adrenaline at his screams. 

She and Cassie had been sitting quietly at the kitchen table playing Monopoly,   
Cassie rapidly reaching Millionaire status and quite pleased about it when Janet had   
heard a sound that seemed so out of place it had taken her a second to figure out how to   
react. It was a cry she had only heard on the battlefield, the sound of fear and   
excruciating pain and somehow it had been coming from her living room. Visions of torn   
and bloodied bodies instantly coming to mind Janet had dashed to the living room to find   
Daniel still sleep on the couch, but far from peaceful, shrieking in a language she   
couldn’t understand. 

Thankfully she had had the presence of mind to bring a vial of Morphine home   
from the infirmary with the thought of keeping Daniel on a steady dose of pain   
medication without waking him every few hours to make him swallow pills. He needed   
rest as much as anything. By his own admission he had slept little while being held   
captive, the smallest sound waking him instantly. Obviously she was going to have to   
watch the clock a little more carefully when it came to administering the drug because if   
that episode was anything to go by his injured shoulder seemed to inspire some very   
powerful dreams when left to fend for itself.

Descending the stairs Janet found Cassie sitting on the couch, Jellybean held   
tightly to her as she stared wide-eyed at the steps.

“Is he ok?” she asked as soon as Janet came into view.

“He’s fine, Sweetheart.” Janet soothed. “It was just a nightmare.”

“He sounded like…I don’t know what he sounded like.” She admitted. “I thought   
someone was attacking him.”

“He’ll be fine.” Janet assured her, settling on the couch and taking the growing   
girl in her arms, a girl who was no longer small enough to tuck under her chin. “He just   
needs some time. It might be a little while before he’s back to being Daniel so we’re   
going to have to be patient with him.” 

She felt Cassie nod against her.

“Who took him?” the girl asked quietly. “Was it the goa’uld?”

“No, just some very bad men.”

“Were they going to kill him?”

“I don’t know, Honey, but it doesn’t matter. He’s home now safe and sound.”

The trick, she mused silently to herself, was going to be convincing Daniel of that   
fact. She had expected nightmares after what he’d been through, but according to the   
night shift at the infirmary he’d been having them regularly since his return, not to   
mention the few she had witnessed during the day.

Janet knew a trip to Mental Health to talk to someone was most likely just what   
he needed, but they were all very aware of his attitude toward that particular group. He’d   
never been very big on psychiatrists in the first place and the episode with McKenzie had   
only made it worse. She had no doubt about Daniel’s reaction to that suggestion. It   
seemed he was going to have to work through it on his own, but that wasn’t likely to   
happen until all of him was completely convinced he was no longer in danger. 

Despite the rescue, which she wasn’t sure he remembered, and several days spent   
back on Earth, part of him was still in that place, dragging the rest of him back there   
nearly every time he fell asleep.

According to Jack he had been barely conscious when they had found him, a story   
the Colonel had been very reluctant to tell. They had finally stumbled across him in a   
one-room hut set out in the middle of nowhere. Judging by Daniel’s lack of response   
when they reached him and only weak protests when they moved him they didn’t think it   
had been very long since his last beating. The still bleeding wounds on his back   
confirming it.

Janet shook herself from the vision. It was over. No amount of reliving it was   
going to change what had happened. What they all needed was to get on with their lives,   
Daniel most of all. Perhaps that was the problem. He’d been getting a lot of rest, but   
simply being in familiar surroundings wasn’t necessarily enough to help him get back in   
the swing of things. Maybe what he needed was a few familiar toys to play with; a   
reminder of what life was normally about. Janet immediately reached for the phone and   
called the base.

XXXXXXX

Daniel woke to a darkened room and for a moment wasn’t sure where he was.   
Curled up on his good side, much the way he had been in his lonely cell, he ran his hand   
along the mattress, reassuring himself that being rescued hadn’t been just a dream.   
Blinking groggily, his eyes finally found the bedroom door, a faint light stealing in from   
the hall. With the light came the muted sound of a voice, deep enough to be male, but   
otherwise unrecognizable. A moment of terror flashed over him as the more paranoid   
part of his mind insisted it was one of the men from PR5193 coming to drag him back to   
the hut. Daniel shoved the thought forcefully away taking as deep a breath as he could   
manage in an effort to slow his already racing pulse. No one had come for him. It was   
probably just someone dropping by for a visit.

Throwing off the covers, he carefully rolled onto his back before easing himself   
into a sitting position with considerable effort. He sat with his feet dangling over the   
side of the bed, gathering his strength before attempting to stand. Even sitting up his   
head was spinning and for a moment he considered calling for help. However, stubborn   
independence won out over his fear of tumbling headlong down the stairs and he pushed   
himself to his feet. Wincing at the pain of moving stiff and sore legs he shuffled slowly   
around the bed testing his balance before heading out into the hall. 

The sound of voices increased with the light as he made his way down the hall   
and it took much less time for him to come to a conclusion about the owners than it did to   
shuffle to the steps. It was most likely his friends coming to check on him the way they   
always did. His new location was a bit more inconvenient than the infirmary, but   
obviously not enough of a deterrent. Daniel couldn’t help smiling at the warm feeling of   
acceptance that crept slowly through him dispelling some of the cold fear that had taken   
up residence in his veins. 

Gripping the railing with his good hand Daniel carefully made his way downstairs   
one step at a time, the inviting smell of pizza awakening his stomach and confirming the   
fact that Jack was somewhere nearby. He managed to make it all the way downstairs and   
half way across the living room before anyone realized he was there, Jellybean picking   
up on his presence first, abandoning his silent begging for pepperoni to wiggle eagerly   
around Daniel’s legs.

“If it isn’t good old Doc Jackson.” Jack exclaimed, beer in hand. “How's it   
going?”

“Good…ok.” He amended, ducking his head in mild embarrassment at being the   
sudden center of attention. 

While he didn’t mind being in the spotlight during a lecture or even a team   
briefing he had always been a little shy around people. Dr. Jackson could be somewhat   
of an extrovert, but Daniel wasn’t.

“I am pleased to see you are recovering.” Teal’c added, the group standing around   
the kitchen, open pizza boxes and beer bottles on the counter.

“That eye just gets better looking every time I see it.” Jack grimaced.

“Hope we didn’t wake you up.” Sam said striding closer to him and kissing his   
cheek. “Good to have you back.” She added giving his good arm a gentle squeeze. 

“Good to be back.” He said, smiling at the affection of his friend.

“Are you hungry?” Janet asked.

“A little.” He said eyeing the pizza boxes.

“Unfortunately pizza’s out of the question, but let’s see what else we can find.”   
She said.

“What say we move this party to a place with comfortable chairs?” Jack   
suggested when Daniel reached for one of the chairs at the table to steady himself, his   
strength rapidly deteriorating.

“Come on, Daniel,” Cassie said as she rounded the end of the table. “You can lean   
on me if you want to.”

“Thanks, Cass.” He replied stroking her hair before shuffling toward the living   
room behind the rest of the group, his good arm rested gently around her shoulders.

He settled with some effort on the couch and listened to the easy banter of his   
friends, soaking it in, willing himself back into his normal routine, but somehow it wasn’t   
happening. Deep inside he felt removed from them as if a part of him had disconnected   
from the rest of the group. Even surrounded by them he felt alone, like he no longer fit   
into the space he had once occupied. He tried to push the feelings away and force   
himself into it anyway, but it wasn’t working and he knew it. 

He sat silently and listened to them talk and laugh, swapping stories as the pizza   
gradually disappeared, Cassie right in the middle of them giggle right along with the   
group. Daniel managed a smile now and then, but couldn't bring himself to share in the   
jocularity any more than he could finish the bowl of warm cereal Janet had made him.   
Sitting on the couch surround by the people he cared about most, he felt lost. 

Jellybean, having given up on the idea of getting anyone in the room to take pity   
on him and share a piece of pizza, crawled up on the couch beside Daniel and rested his   
head on his lap to be petted. Daniel obliged, his mind drifting to darker places as he   
absently stroked the dog's fur. 

The sound of his name eventually pulled him from his thoughts and he rejoined   
the present to find a room full of people staring at him.

"Everything ok?" Janet asked.

"Yeah, sure." He replied, trying to sound convincing.

"We probably should be heading out." Jack commented as he checked his watch   
and drained his beer. 

"No, you guys don't have to go." Daniel protested.

"You need to rest." Sam pointed out getting up from her perch near the fireplace.   
"We don't want to wear you out on your first day home."

"Thanks for the pizza, Uncle Jack." Cassie said, standing on her toes to reach her   
arms around his neck.

"Yes, thank you Colonel." Janet added. 

"Anytime, Ladies." He replied. "You take it easy, Daniel. Let me know if you   
need anything."

"Thank you, I will." 

"No, that's ok. Don't get up." Jack replied as Daniel attempted to get to his feet.   
"We'll show ourselves out. After all, we showed ourselves in."

Teal'c offered a nod and Sam squeezed his good shoulder before the group slowly   
filtered out the door and the house was quiet.

"That was totally cool." Cassie said with a heavy sigh. "We should do that every   
weekend."

"That was fun, wasn’t it?" Janet replied. "Can you help me with the bottles?"

Daniel watched them collect pizza boxes, plates and empty bottles from the living   
room feeling very much as if he should get up and help, but settled for handing Cassie a   
beer bottle from the end table near him.

"Are you finished with this?" Janet asked, collecting his still half-full bowl of   
cereal.

"Yes. Thank you."

"You didn't eat very much." She commented. "Do you want something else?"

"No. I'm fine."

"I could make you some toast."

"No, that's ok, really. I wasn’t very hungry."

"Alright." She shrugged, dropping the discussion. "Let me know if you change   
your mind."

She carried the bowl and the last empty pizza box into the kitchen putting one in   
the sink and the other in the nearly overflowing garbage. She had been watching Daniel   
through most of the evening trying to gauge his state of mind from the way he interacted   
with his team mates, or rather hadn't interacted with his team mates . He hadn't said more   
than two words the entire evening spending most of the time staring off into space.   
While she was willing to chalk some of it up to him simply being tired she suspected it   
wasn't just exhaustion that was keeping him quiet. He was withdrawn, maybe even   
depressed, certainly suffering from post-traumatic stress. She wasn't sure if he was   
consciously refusing to engage or was just so tied up inside he didn't know how. Either   
way Daniel had been closed off since the rescue. 

She had hoped as he healed he would bounce back, but so far it wasn't happening.   
True, it had only been a few days and he was still attempting to get his bearings, but even   
in their quiet moments in the infirmary he had yet to reach out to her. As far as she knew   
he had yet to reach out to anyone. Keeping that kind of trauma locked inside wasn't   
going to help him. If anything it would only do more damage. She wanted to push him   
out of his shell, prod him into peeking out into the real world, but he seemed so fragile   
she wasn't sure how far to push. Would she help him or would it only hurt him and send   
him scurrying further inside? She had never been taken hostage, never been tortured by   
anyone, certainly not in any scenario that even remotely resembled what he'd just been   
through. In all honesty she had no idea what he was feeling and because of that had no   
idea how to help him. It was a position she found frustrating and truly disturbing.   
Helping people was what she did, especially those she cared about. Standing idly by   
while they were hurting wasn't something she knew how to do. 

Maybe all he needed was more time. He'd only been home a few hours and with   
everything that had happened the change of scenery was probably a bit traumatic. Maybe   
she was expecting too much. Willing to wait a while longer and see how things played   
out, she settled on the couch beside him, content to let him continue his silence,   
somewhat appeased when he let her hold his good hand, immediately lacing his fingers   
with hers. 

 

XXXXXXX

Janet heard the sound through her open bedroom door in the wee hours of the   
morning, a low mournful wail cut short for reasons she could not explain. Out from   
under the covers in an instant, she wrapped her robe around herself as she padded quickly   
down the hall to the guestroom and peered through the door she had purposely left open   
for just such an occasion. 

"Daniel?" she whispered unable to see anything in the dim light. "Are you ok?"  
Waiting only a few seconds for an answer that didn’t come, she pushed the door closed   
behind her in an attempt to keep from waking Cassie and turned on the light. Blinking   
and squinting she struggled to see, her eyes finally adjusting to reveal an empty bed,   
blankets rumpled and pillow tossed to the side. 

"Daniel?" she called again moving closer to the bed, considering the idea of   
checking the bathroom when out of the corner of her eye she saw him huddled on the   
floor on the far side of the room, pressed against one end of the dresser with his injured   
shoulder wedged into the corner. His good arm wrapped around his middle, knees   
pulled up to his chest, he stared back at her wide-eyed, glancing anxiously past her as if   
expecting someone else to enter the room at any moment.

"It's alright, Honey." She soothed, turning toward him, her movements slow in an   
effort not to startle him. "Everything's ok."

"Janet?" he whispered anxiously.

"It's me. Everything's alright." She inched toward him slowly, cautiously. "No   
one's going to hurt you."

"I heard a noise." He said, face twitching into a tearful grimace. "I thought they   
were coming."

"No one's coming, Daniel. You're safe." She assured him, watching as he relaxed   
minutely, his body still curled into a ball. "It was probably just Jellybean."

"I'm scared." He choked.

"I know." She answered, crouching down beside him.

"I'm always scared...and I hate it."

"I know."

"I don't want to be alone." He admitted. 

“I’m sorry, Honey,” She offered, “I thought we’d give you a little privacy with a   
room all to yourself, but maybe that wasn’t such a good idea, hmm?”

Resisting the urge to take him in her arms, an action that would certainly have   
caused him pain with dozens of places on him still tender, she settled instead for stroking   
his good shoulder, then his arm and finally his face, her touch drawing him more fully   
into the present.

"Why don't you come back to bed?" she coaxed. "I'll stay with you tonight." she   
offered. 

"I'm sorry." He said, his face a picture of misery.

"For what?"

"For falling apart. For making you take care of me."

"You're not making me do anything." She replied warmly. "Come on."

Carefully, gently she coaxed him to his feet and helped him wobble his way back   
to bed, tucking him securely under the covers before turning off the light and climbing in   
beside him. Snuggling close to him, Janet carefully rested an arm across his chest,   
kissing his shoulder.

"I love you." She whispered in the darkness. "I can't tell you how glad I am to   
have you back."

"I don't feel like I'm back." 

"I know, but you will. Give it time." She assured him, determined that it was the   
truth.

XXXXXXX

Daniel spent most of the next day on the couch downstairs, the television babbling   
at him more for company than entertainment. Despite the constant noise and frequent   
activity in the room interrupting his sleep Janet decided he needed peace of mind a little   
more than peace and quiet. Since being alone seemed to disturb him, for the time being   
he had taken up residence in the living room. 

Adjusting the blanket over him as he slept, she frowned at the bones becoming all   
too visible under his skin. He looked every inch the malnourished prisoner and despite   
his return to the familiar safety of home, he was still eating little, his weight continuing to   
drop. She didn't need to stand him on a scale to see that. She offered him food regularly,   
but he was seldom in the mood to eat it and when he was, it was in scant amounts. Janet   
didn't know if it was a lack of interest in the very short list of foods he was allowed to eat   
or the fact that inside he was still tied in knots. All she knew was that if he didn't start   
eating on his own soon she was going to have to consider either putting him back on an   
IV or using a feeding tube. Either one would put him at least temporarily back in the   
infirmary. Janet was hoping her surprise would help settle him enough to make neither   
one necessary.

Quietly, making every attempt not to wake him, she set a small collection of his   
favorite toys on the coffee table in front of him: a couple of his notebooks detailing recent   
missions, a stack of translations that were begging for attention and a laptop. She didn't   
know what, if any, reference books he might need, but figured he could e-mail Sam or the   
Colonel and have them brought over. 

There wasn't one scrap of paper that wasn't classified, but the only person in the   
house not already privy to the information was Jellybean and she figured he wasn't much   
of a security risk. Her only concern was that Daniel would work more than he slept, but   
for the time being she was willing to take the chance. If she could get his mind back on   
real life, the day to day tasks that usually kept him occupied, perhaps the nightmares   
would stop. Then maybe he could get a decent night's sleep and perhaps even decide he   
was in the mood for a real meal. It was a tenuous house of cards, but she was running out   
of ideas.

Glancing over at him she noticed Daniel's face wedged into a scowl. With a   
twitch of his head his eyes were suddenly open, staring directly at her, taking her   
completely by surprise.

"Hi." She offered, Daniel looking back at her in confusion.

"Hi." He replied.

"Are you ok?"

"Sort of." He said, the scowl easing into a frown.

"I had the gang bring some things over for you, stuff to make you feel more at   
home."

She watched as Daniel's eyes roamed over the collection, a small smile warming   
his tired features. 

"I don't want you to overdo it," she warned "but I thought a few distractions might   
help take your mind off things."

"Thank you," he said, the smile growing by degrees.

Without his glasses she doubted he could make out much in the way of details,   
but just the presence of notebooks and a computer seemed to put him instantly at ease.   
Janet helped him sit up and retrieved his glasses, watching with nothing short of relief as   
the old Daniel emerged from the pained and frightened persona she'd been seeing since   
his rescue. 

Slowly he leafed through the pages of the translation, pausing to flip open the   
laptop, powering it up with long practiced motion that required nothing more than touch.   
As the machine went through its warm up routine, he settled carefully back on the couch   
scanning the single page of notes that went along with the translation, a description of   
time and place by the team that had brought back the text. Almost immediately he was   
engrossed in the project, finally reaching for one of the legal pads Janet had provided and   
taking pen in hand. Thankfully his right arm was relatively undamaged so scribbling   
notes wasn't a problem. 

"I'll leave you to it." She said, placing a kiss on his forehead. "One hour, then I   
want you to rest."

"Right." He replied absently.

"Daniel." She said, waiting until his eyes came up from the page, knowing he   
would automatically agree to nearly anything when he was working just to get the   
distracting person to leave him alone, half the time without actually registering the   
request. "One hour."

"Right. One hour." He repeated before diving right back into his work.

 

XXXXXXX

Daniel was blissfully and completely engrossed in the text from SG-11's latest   
mission, over 200 pages of much needed distraction that had nothing to do with filthy   
huts or men with whips and sticks. Nothing even remotely related to that awful place he   
couldn't seem to get out of his head. His entire focus was on the message from an   
unknown people, writings that had been tucked away in a dark corner of what the team   
had believed to be a temple of some kind. One he would have been invited to see with   
his own eyes if he hadn't been missing at the time they'd found it. He was just beginning   
to make notes on the frequency of repeating groups of certain characters when Janet was   
at his side running a hand through his hair.

"How's it going?" she asked, peering at the foreign characters.

"Good." He replied instantly, doing his best to ignore her, hoping she would   
present only a minimal and very brief distraction.

"How about taking a break for a bit?" she asked.

"I'm fine." He assured her.

"It's been an hour."

"Really?" he looked up long enough to glance at the clock across the room,   
shocked to find that so much time had passed. He'd been certain it had only been twenty   
minutes at the most. "Just one more hour." He bargained.

"You don't want to over do it, Daniel." She warned. "You still need your rest."

Instantly a bolt of anger flashed from somewhere deep inside, taking him almost   
completely by surprise. He didn't want to stop. It was the first peace he'd had since the   
day he’d been kidnapped and he wasn't ready to give it up. She didn't understand. She   
hadn't been there. She didn't know what it was like to have the memories constantly   
huddled at the edge of his mind, just waiting until his focus wavered, immediately   
crowding in on him until he could hardly breathe. It made him feel almost claustrophobic   
knowing there was no way to get away from them, nowhere to hide. Awake or asleep   
they found him, until now. Finally he had found a way to escape them and she wanted to   
take it from him. 

The instant the thoughts formed in his mind, he felt guilty. She didn't deserve his   
anger. Not after all she'd done: putting him back together in the infirmary, bringing him   
home to watch over him, taking time off work to take care of him. She'd been there after   
more than half his nightmares, calming him, reassuring him, soothing his overwrought   
mind and he was half a step away from taking her head off for suggesting he might need   
to rest. Guilt overriding his anger, Daniel reluctantly set the stack of papers back on the   
coffee table, willing himself to permit her affection as she continued touching him:   
stroking his hair, kissing the side of his head. With a heavy sigh he turned the anger on   
himself at the realization that he felt he had to suffer through her contact. Closing his   
eyes to hide the emotions swirling just under the surface he rested his head against the   
back of the couch, face turned toward the ceiling and allowed her to assume it was due to   
nothing more than fatigue. 

"Maybe a little too much too soon?" she suggested, misinterpreting the weariness   
in his features.

"No, it was perfect. Just what I needed." He replied, smiling in her direction, eyes   
still closed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She kissed him again, a gentle contact on the lips. "How about   
lunch? Are you hungry?"

"No, not really."

"Are you sure? It's been a long time since breakfast." She coaxed, deliberately   
skirting the fact that he'd barely managed to eat then either.

His frustration flared again at the mild cajoling. He didn't want to eat. He simply   
wasn't hungry. For reasons he couldn't explain he was never interested in food any more,   
but Janet still insisted on plying him with it several times a day anyway leaving him   
feeling obligated to swallow the meager amounts he could tolerate just to make her   
happy. 

He didn't want to be babied. He didn't want to be hovered over. He wanted to be   
left alone. He wanted to be back in his own apartment buried in work, sleeping only   
when he was literally too exhausted to keep his eyes open any more. In fact the only   
thing keeping him from insisting that Janet take him home was that he wasn't at all   
certain he really wanted to be alone. During the day the noise of the television kept the   
oppressing silence at bay, but during the night when every sound seemed ominous and   
the darkness taunted him with imaginary dangers a real live person was the only thing   
that soothed him. 

"Daniel?" Janet spoke his name with a hint of concern that seemed ever present in   
her tone, the attempt at wrangling in his temper having taken a bit too long.

"Maybe a little soup." He replied managing to restrain the annoyed sigh that tried   
desperately to follow on the heels of the answer. "I think I’m going to go back upstairs."   
He added, finally opening his eyes.

"Too much commotion down here?" she asked, a hand rested gently on his arm, a   
touch he usually found comforting, but now only annoyed him further.

"The bed's a bit more comfortable." He said.

"I'll help you." She offered.

"No. Thank you, I can manage." He answered, softening his tone.

"Ok. Then I'll be up in a minute with the soup."

Daniel offered her a smile and allowed her to help him off the couch before   
shuffling up the stairs to the guestroom, wishing he could take an armful of projects with   
him. There was no telling how long it would be before he saw them again. 

Retreating to the only part of the residence that seemed to allow him any reprieve   
from the determined attention of the women of the house, Daniel took refuge in the   
secluded guestroom, despite the protests from the part of him that was still scared to be   
alone. It was a contradiction that was wearing on his nerves almost more than anything   
else. 

His intention had been to settle himself carefully in bed and wait for Janet to   
reappear with his unwanted lunch, but a commercial for shampoo on the small television   
in his room sent another thought echoing through his head. His back was well on its way   
to being healed. Janet had said so herself. She still changed his bandages daily so   
obviously the task wasn't completed, but it had to be better than it had been several days   
ago. Never having seen the wounds he had no idea how bad they really were. For all he   
knew, the pain that inevitably flared when he'd been lying on his back for too long came   
from the still healing bruises rather than the open wounds. With so many injuries it was   
impossible to distinguish one ache from another. However, standing at the end of the bed   
staring transfixed at the television screen he suddenly found himself desperately craving   
the smell of shampoo. He could almost feel the warm water of the shower on his skin. 

It wouldn't take Janet very long to heat up tomato soup, certainly not long enough   
for him to take a shower and slink back to bed, but maybe long enough for him to get too   
far into the task for her to stop him. 

Turning on his heel he shuffled back out of the guestroom and slunk down the   
hall into her bedroom, closing the door behind him. Immediately shutting himself in her   
bathroom he began the arduous task of shedding his clothes. Tugging his sweats and   
boxers off with his good hand, he let them slide down his legs and puddle on the floor to   
be dealt with later. Next came the much more daunting task of freeing his injured arm.   
Daniel tugged at the velcro straps that held his wrist securely to his stomach and released   
his wounded appendage, lowering it carefully to his side. Reaching awkwardly around   
his body with is good arm he began unfastening the clasps that kept the contraption in   
place.

With the exception of the sling, getting undressed wasn’t all that difficult.   
Painful, but not difficult. However it required a good deal of energy, something he didn’t   
have a lot of. By the time he had managed to struggle the sling and shirt off his body he   
was drained, his shoulder aching. Still, he hadn't gone to all the trouble of getting   
undressed just to collapse in a naked heap. Determined to finish what he had started and   
driven by the need to wash the stench of captivity from his body, Daniel pulled open the   
sliding shower door and turned on the water. He settled on the closed toilet, hoping to   
conserve his energy, and anxiously waited for it to warm, testing it every few seconds,   
praying he would get the chance to actually get in before Janet appeared. He considered   
locking the door to guarantee that she let him finish what he needed to do, but thought   
better of it. If he slipped and fell she would have a very hard time coming to his rescue   
with a locked door between them. 

Finally, with steam beginning to fog the glass he got to his feet and held onto the   
shower door to steady himself as he carefully stepped in. Testing the temperature on his   
legs and finding it bearable, Daniel shuffled forward into the stream of water, closing his   
eyes as it ran down his body. The feel of it was very nearly beyond description; a   
wonderful sensation of water flowing over him carrying the imaginary filth and grime   
away and washing it down the drain. He grinned into the stream as it landed full force on   
his face despite the ache it inspired in his still bruised eye. He didn’t care about the pain.   
He was finally going to be clean and that was all that mattered. Cautiously ducking his   
head into the spray he soaked his hair, attempting to keep his back dry, hoping he could   
use it as an argument in his favor when Janet inevitably showed up. However, the   
thought that only most of him would be clean changed his mind. Mostly clean wasn’t   
going to cut it. He was already mostly clean and it was driving him crazy. 

Pulling his head back out of the water, his back still relatively dry, Daniel grabbed   
the closest bottle of shampoo he could find and flipped open the cap without bothering to   
look at the label. He didn’t care if it left him smelling like rose petals, lavender, lilacs or   
even baby powder for the rest of the day. As long as it did the job. He squeezed a   
generous amount onto the top of his head and began scrubbing at his scalp. Being wet   
was a good start, but in order to be clean he was going to need soap and lots of it.   
Massaging the gel into a generous lather with his good hand he made sure to cover every   
inch of his head, feet spread wide on the bathtub floor to keep his balance. 

With his hair a mass of foam Daniel paused, shampoo covered hand braced   
against the shower wall for support as he rested, attempting to recover at least some of   
the strength that was fading quickly. Standing in the warm humidity of the shower,   
breathing heavily as his body sent a warning that it wasn't going to put up with his current   
level of activity for long, Daniel finally heard the sound he had been expecting all along.

"Daniel!" Janet gasped, bursting into the room. "What are you doing?!"

 

*******

 

Janet had been in the kitchen stirring the mug of tomato soup she had just   
removed from the microwave when she heard the water running upstairs. For a moment   
she stood staring at the ceiling trying to understand what she was hearing when suddenly   
a very likely explanation dawned on her. Abandoning the soup she sprinted for the stairs   
and dashed toward her bedroom only to be met with a closed door.

"Daniel." She groused to herself, pushing into the room, her suspicions confirmed   
when she heard the shower running behind the closed bathroom door. Maybe it wasn't   
too late to stop him. Maybe he hadn't already gotten in. She knew he was going to be   
angry when she turned off the water and attempted to march him away from the tub.   
Most likely it would inspire a very loud, frustrated protest, something she was seriously   
considering launching into herself. Still, despite what were probably very compelling   
reasons for doing what he was doing, his body simply wasn't ready yet.

The wounds on his back were much better than they had been, making slow, but   
steady progress, however they were far from healed enough for showers. Having oil and   
dirt from his hair washed into them was not something she would recommend at this   
stage. Especially not for the two she had nearly done skin grafts on, patches that were   
still very close to open wounds. 

Gritting her teeth, an argument already forming in her mind, she marched into the   
bathroom to find him standing in the shower, his head a mass of foam. One arm tucked   
to his chest, the other braced against the shower wall for support, his naked form was   
clearly visible to her even through the gathering condensation and spray on the glass   
door. 

"Daniel!" she yelled over the sound of running water. "What are you doing?!"

"Taking a shower." He replied calmly, clearly having expected her to come   
barging in on him at some point.

"Your back's not ready for this." She informed him, a patchwork of white gauze   
on his back easily visible through the glass.

"I don't care." He informed her.

"Daniel…" she sighed.

"Janet." He countered, turning his face toward her. "Please. I need to do this."

She stood for a moment looking back at him trying to understand his motivation.   
He had to have known she would make every effort to stop him the minute she figured   
out what he was doing and must have suspected he wouldn't get very far before that   
happened. Still he had gone ahead with it in what she had assumed only a moment before   
to be nothing more than simple rebellion, determination to do what he wanted just   
because he wanted it. 

His sudden blatant disregard for the instructions she had given as his doctor didn't   
bother her all that much. After all, she knew it had nothing to do with her and everything   
to do with him desperately trying to take back some kind of control over his life. The   
problem was he was putting himself in danger and as the woman who was very much in   
love with him she didn't want to see him hurt any more than he already was. 

However, the pleading tone of his voice had nothing to do with rebellion or   
defiance. It spoke of something else entirely. Instead of the willful challenge she had   
been expecting she heard only desperation. His face, slightly distorted by the shower   
door, showed a sense of urgency she could still decipher even through the mist and   
steam. Janet glanced toward the floor and saw the pile of clothing he had left behind, his   
sling abandoned on the tile with the rest of it and suddenly a new motive occurred to her.   
Maybe his unsanctioned dive into the shower didn't have anything to do with frustration   
at the way she had been determinedly babying him the past few days or the long list of   
things he wasn't allowed to do. Perhaps it had nothing at all to do with trying to take   
back some kind of control of his life. Maybe it had been inspired by desperation to   
escape his ever-present memories of the place all of them would like to forget. 

Daniel wasn't an impulsive person. He thought things through, considering nearly   
every angle. What if something in him really did need this? He certainly wouldn't have   
gone to all the trouble of struggling out of his clothes, let alone risking slipping in the   
shower on his unsteady legs for no reason. The pleading look on his face seemed to   
confirm it. 

"Alright," she said quietly, closing the bathroom door behind her "but let's make   
this quick."

She watched as Daniel blinked at her in surprise, blue eyes registering something   
akin to shock as she whipped the shirt off over her head.

"What are you doing?" he gaped.

"You don't honestly expect me to climb in there with my clothes on, do you?"

A smile lit his face, one of the very few she'd seen since the rescue team had   
dragged him home. If they could get him through this without injury and without making   
the wounds on his back worse she decided it would be worth it just for that expression.

Janet quickly shed the rest of her clothes and climbed into the shower behind him   
in nothing, but her underwear, doing her best to ignore the all too visible bones under his   
skin as he ducked his head under the stream to rinse off the shampoo. Water and foam   
chased down his chest and for a moment Daniel seemed to relish the feel of it, turning his   
face toward the spigot and stepping further into the stream. As he did, tiny rivers raced   
down his back instantly soaking the bandages and pressing them against the tender   
wounds beneath. Janet heard him hiss through clenched teeth and watched as his body   
tensed, all movement stopped. 

Standing perfectly still with his head pushed into the stream Daniel paused, his   
breath coming in tiny gasps. Janet peered around his shoulder searching his face for   
signs of distress, but like the rest of him it was frozen, absolutely unreadable.

"Everything ok?" she asked to which he nodded in small jerks, though she wasn't   
sure she believed him. 

Uncertain what to do, she decided to continue with the idea of getting him in and   
out of the shower as quickly as possible, the trembling of his arm as he stood leaning   
against the wall testifying to his rapidly deteriorating strength. Reaching for the soap   
with the intention of getting him lathered, rinsed and out of the bathroom in record time   
she heard a sob escape him. 

"Daniel?" She called, her hand immediately changing direction, abandoning the   
idea of soap and resting low on his back, Daniel flinching at the unexpected contact.

"I'm ok." He answered in a voice that was less than convincing.

"Look at me." She requested gently, watching as he slowly extracted himself from   
the stream of water, anguished eyes finding her face. "Do you want to stop?"

"No. It just…it feels like…" he shrugged with one shoulder, refusing to voice the   
thought any further, but his few words combined with the look on his face were all she   
needed. 

The water had set his wounds to stinging, refreshing the sensation in his mind and   
reviving the memory of how he had gotten them in the first place. Huddled against the   
wall, his back exposed, it had probably felt entirely too familiar.

"Let's finish this up and get you out of here." She suggested, Daniel nodding   
agreement, suddenly much less enthusiastic than he had been.

Lathering him in soap and rinsing him off as quickly as possible Janet turned off   
the water and wrapped him in a towel before settling him on the closed toilet. He stared   
in a daze at the floor, hardly noticing when she stripped out of her soaked bra and panties   
and donned a towel of her own, something she took as a bad sign. Disinterest at the sight   
of her body was not Daniel's normal reaction. Ushering him into the bedroom, she settled   
him face down on the bed to change his bandages, the towel draped over his still naked   
lower half. 

This was far from the first shower they had taken together, but unlike the others   
there had been nothing romantic about it. Standing next to his naked, wet body she had   
felt nothing, but concern and heartache at the unobstructed view of his injuries. It had   
been a far cry from the erotic encounters of their past, ones that had left them trembling   
in the cold spray, the water heater having given out long before they had. With Daniel   
lying face down on her bed, rapidly drifting to sleep she felt no desire to kiss him   
senseless. Only to hold him tenderly, hoping the contact would keep his horrible   
memories at bay.

Gathering supplies to replace his bandages, including an antibiotic ointment to   
ward off infection, she gingerly removed the soaked tape and gauze, sighing to herself as   
she did. 

In reality Daniel's shower hadn't been necessary. They'd made certain he was   
clean from the moment he'd arrived in the infirmary, giving him numerous sponge baths   
and washing his hair regularly. The filth still clinging to him was all in his mind, but   
after years as a military doctor she understood Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome very   
well. For nearly a week he’d been terrified, hungry, thirsty, in considerable pain and   
completely filthy. Hungry and thirsty had been taken care of, but terrified still clung to   
him, his head packed with awful visions that wouldn’t seem to let go, trapping him in the   
past with a full sensory recall of the worst of it. She knew he was still scared a good deal   
of the time and it made her heart ache. While he couldn’t seem to get away from the fear   
he could at least wash away the sensation of filth and grime with a little soap and   
shampoo, reminding himself that the trauma was over. He was in a clean room with   
clean clothes and clean skin. Unfortunately she knew he would find it was only   
temporary. The memories would drag him back to that place again and again until he   
figured out how to free himself from them.

Affixing the last piece of gauze to his back, she carefully dressed him in clean   
boxers and sweats while he slept, then administered another dose of Morphine before   
wrestling him back into his sling with Cassie's help. Tucking him in her bed, Janet   
stroked his still slightly damp hair and kissed his closed eyes, content to let him sleep   
right where he was.

 

XXXXXXX

Daniel woke to the morning sun, blinking at a room that was very familiar. He   
was in Janet's bed, her half of it vacant. Though he couldn't remember having gotten   
dressed he found himself in a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, his arm in the sling. The last   
thing he could recall was the shower: the smell of shampoo, the feel of warm water   
washing over him, and Janet giving in much more easily than he had thought she would. 

He had been expecting a stern lecture followed by her yanking him   
unceremoniously out of the shower despite his protests. She hadn't done either. She had   
taken one look at him, put her medical concerns aside and instantly transformed herself   
into his friend, his lover, the woman who was always by his side. No arguments. No   
lectures. No reprimand, just compassion for something he knew she couldn't really   
understand. Even though she didn't know exactly what was going on in his head she   
knew him and apparently that had been enough to convince her. It made him feel like a   
heel for his frustration with her constant and determined mothering. She was trying to   
take care of him and he was being an ass.

Pushing himself carefully from the bed, he shuffled down the stairs to find a silent   
and deserted living room. Padding to the kitchen he found the same thing. Apparently   
Janet and Cassie had gone out. He thought it odd that they would have left without   
telling him, but was willing to assume they had left a note somewhere. He just hadn't   
stumbled onto it yet. In all honesty he was more relieved than concerned. Finally he had   
some time to himself. 

The first thing he intended to do was fix something to eat. For the first time in he   
couldn't remember how long he actually felt hungry, not to mention finally being able to   
breathe. Apparently something in him that had been wound far too tight had finally   
relaxed because the suffocating tension in his chest was gone. The only explanation he   
could come up with was the shower. He hadn't realized how much the notion that he   
walking around still carrying the residue of that…place…on his skin had bothered him.   
As supposedly undetectable as it had been, part of him had apparently been very aware of   
it. With the last remnants of P5R193 washed down the drain he felt like a new man or at   
the very least more like his old self.

Peering into the kitchen cupboards he discovered that Janet had accumulated a   
decent supply of tomato soup and rice cereal, enough to feed him for weeks. Never   
having been a big fan of rice cereal, Daniel retrieved a can of soup and set to work   
making toast with a loaf of the kind of plain, white bread he couldn't recall ever having   
seen in her kitchen before, a new addition to her shopping list along with the cereal and   
soup. He hadn't found any yet, but was certain there was most likely a small stash of   
jello hidden somewhere, too.

Several minutes later he was settled at the table munching happily on dry toast   
and drinking soup from a mug when Cassie suddenly appeared.

"Hi, Daniel." She greeted looking just as surprised to see him as he was to see her.   
"I thought you were asleep."

"I was." He said before swallowing a small mouthful of soup. "I got hungry."

"You should have told me." She scolded him. "I would have brought you   
something."

"I didn't think you were here." He said, leaving out the argument about being   
perfectly capable of taking care of himself. After all, up until a few hours ago that hadn't   
exactly been the case.

"I was in my room."

"Where's Janet?" he asked, taking another bite of toast.

"Shopping." Cassie commented, settling in a chair at the other side of the table.   
"We needed milk. How do you feel?" she asked, changing the subject and sounding very   
much like her mother.

"Fine." He replied. "You?"

"I'm fine." She smirked.

"How's school?" he asked, steering the topic in a different direction.

"Good. I passed my Geometry test last week."

"Congratulations." He smiled. 

"I was sure I'd flunked it." She admitted. "I mean, I studied and everything, but I   
just couldn't concentrate. Of course, the fact that the test was, like, the day after you…"   
she finished the sentence with a shrug. "Well, it didn’t help."

"I bet that was a rough week for you." He said quietly.

Cassie nodded, her gaze on the table. "Mom said I shouldn't worry because Uncle   
Jack would find you, but then you were gone for so long… After a while I wasn't sure he   
would.” Cassie paused for a moment, her voice quiet as she continued. “Mom was trying   
to pretend she wasn't scared. She still thinks she needs to protect me sometimes." She   
raised her eyebrows and sighed. "But I could hear her in her room crying at night when   
she thought I was asleep." She confessed looking suddenly quite miserable. 

"Come here." Daniel said quietly around the lump in his throat. 

Cassie rose from her chair. He held his good arm out to her and instantly she was   
at his side, tears in her eyes. 

"I'm sorry." He offered, holding her tightly to his side from where he sat.

"I didn't know if you'd come back." She sniffled, an arm draped carefully around   
his shoulders.

At that moment he wanted nothing more than to hold her, to wrap her in his arms   
until she wasn't scared any more. But things like that were hard to do with one arm   
strapped to his chest.

"Mom said I shouldn't hug you too much." She confessed. "I might hurt you."

"You're not going to hurt me." He assured her, holding her as tightly as he could   
manage. "I'm sorry I scared you, Cass." He offered. 

"It wasn't your fault." She sniffled.

"I know, but I'm sorry anyway."

"It's ok." She assured him, resting her cheek on top of his head. "I'm just glad   
you're back."

"That makes two of us."

XXXXXXX

Janet came tumbling through the front door balancing two grocery bags in her   
arms to find Daniel settled once again in the living room, stretched out on the couch.  
Shuffling to the kitchen, she deposited the bags on the counter and made a detour to the   
living room to check on him before beginning to unload the rest of the food from the car.

He was half asleep, eyelids drooping closed while the National Geographic   
Channel babbled quietly at him from across the room.

"Hi." She greeted softly, caressing his face.

"Hi." He mumbled back.

"How do you feel?"

"Fine."

"How's your shoulder."

"It's good."

"Are you hungry?"

"Already ate." He muttered, drifting further toward sleep.

"Good." She smiled.

"I love you, you know." He sighed, raising his hand to stroke her arm in a show of   
affection she hadn't seen since before he'd been kidnapped, the old Daniel making a long   
awaited appearance. “Haven’t said that in a while.” He yawned.

"I know. I love you, too." She answered, kissing him gently before leaving him to   
rest.

She had told Cassie to keep an eye on him while she was gone and apparently   
Cassie had done a good job, actually managing to get him to eat something. How much   
of something she didn't know, but at least it was a start. The fact that he was suddenly   
acting a whole lot more like himself than he had been had Janet grinning to herself with   
relief as she strode from the room.

Not wanting to wake him by hollering through the house for her teenage miracle   
worker, Janet finished unloading the car and went in search of her daughter, finding her   
scanning the latest copy of teen-something-or-other in her room.

"I'm back." She announced. "How'd it go?"

"Fine."

"Did he eat?"

"Yeah." Cassie confirmed. "He made himself some soup."

"Really?"

"Uh huh. And a couple of pieces of toast." She added. "He didn't finish it all,   
though."

"That's ok." Janet said, relief obvious in her tone. "I'm just happy to see him   
finally discovering an appetite. How long has he been up?"

"I don't know. About an hour, I guess."

"Maybe that shower did him some good after all." She mused out loud. "Come on.   
I could use some help putting away the groceries."

"Did you get anything good?" Cassie asked, climbing off her bed.

"Some more frozen waffles."

"With chocolate chips?" Cassie asked hopefully as she followed Janet downstairs. 

"Blueberries."

"Aw, Mom."

 

XXXXXXX

It was a beautiful spring day complete with blue sky, warm sun and a barely   
present cool breeze. The wandering crowds of people at the park gave testament to the   
fact that half the city had chosen that same spot in which to spend it. Jack sat with his   
face turned toward the sun, eyes closed behind his dark glasses, smiling to himself at the   
rays warming his skin. It was one of those perfect days that made him all too willing to   
forget what he did for a living. No guns, no bad guys, no goa'uld infested planets, no   
innocents to rescue. Nothing more alarming than the possibility of a mild sunburn. 

Perched on the almost comfortable park bench with his arms stretched out across   
the wooden back Jack mused that all he needed to make the scene flawlessly perfect was   
a decent sized puddle of water and a fishing pole. However, they weren't at the park for   
him. They weren't even at the park for Jellybean who was nearly beside himself with the   
combined excitement of people and other dogs. They were there for Daniel. 

Over the past few days Daniel had begun to creep out of his hiding place, his long   
stretches of silence not quite so long and his appetite still meager, but showing signs of   
improvement. He was a long way from being back to his old self, but his attempts to   
rejoin the rest of civilization were encouraging enough to have wiped the look of   
perpetual concern from Janet's face. At least until earlier that morning. 

The team had dropped by the house, each of them showing up of their own   
accord, but almost simultaneously, nonetheless. They had been sharing a cup of coffee at   
the kitchen table, trying to keep the conversation low as Daniel supposedly dozed in the   
living room, his constant companion tuned to one of his favorite channels. Suddenly he   
had appeared in the kitchen, blindly shuffling past the table and out the sliding glass door   
without so much as a wave in their direction. With his skin the color of milk and a very   
nearly vacant expression on his face it hadn't taken more than a glance for them to realize   
something was very wrong. Janet had instantly trailed him out to the backyard while   
Jack had wandered into the living room to see what had inspired the expression Daniel   
only wore when he'd been pushed entirely too far. 

He had half expected to find a goa'uld or a member of the NID (the two often   
interchangeable) standing in the living room with a weapon in one hand and an over   
inflated ego in the other. However, he had found nothing, but furniture and the still   
babbling television. When the scene on the Discovery Channel switched to a disheveled   
hut on a quiet dirt path of some unidentified third world country the mystery had been   
solved. At this stage in his recovery when he was still weak and flashbacks were   
common the last thing Daniel needed was to have the TV replaying scenes from his   
recently lived nightmare in technicolor. Most likely something Daniel had seen on the   
television while still half asleep had struck a bit too close to home and tossed him several   
days into the past, launching him headlong back into a horror he had barely escaped. 

Jack had found Janet anxiously hovering next to a silent, traumatized Daniel,   
desperately trying to figure out what was wrong, Daniel doing his best to wrap his arms   
around himself with one of them still strapped to his body. Relieved at Jack's offered   
explanation, but still concerned, she had reluctantly left the two of them in the backyard   
alone. Jack had attempted to coax Daniel out of his stupor before suggesting that what he   
needed was a change of scenery. Something to help crowd out the memories in his mind.   
The park had seemed a good choice with its combination of fresh air and enough activity   
to keep Daniel occupied. Both Cassie and Jellybean had agreed wholeheartedly.

Turning his face from the sun, Jack once again trained his gaze on Daniel who   
was standing in the grass on the other side of the paved footpath watching Cassie and   
Jellybean play with the dog's mangled racquetball. Jack and Teal'c had promised to keep   
an eye on the three of them while Janet and Sam went for a walk, the Jaffa perched on the   
park bench beside Jack. 

The Colonel was busy musing to himself that Daniel looked as scrawny now as he   
had when they had first put SG-1 together what felt like a century ago when he saw   
Daniel sway slightly. For an instant he wasn't sure if he had really seen it or if his   
imagination had gotten the better of him until Teal'c suddenly got to his feet.

"I believe Daniel Jackson requires assistance." Teal'c stated

"Yeah, I saw that," Jack replied hefting himself up from the bench "but let's just   
be casual about this." He suggested, a hand on Teal'c's shoulder to slow his hurried   
progress. "I think he's had about as much mothering as he can stand for the time being." 

Slowly they strolled across the path and onto the grass, Teal'c's tense shoulders   
countering the leisurely pace. 

"So, Daniel…how's it going?" Jack asked, hands in his pockets. 

Daniel turned toward him, squinting at him with an expression that made it   
obvious he wasn't quite sure how to take the question.

"Fine."

"Good." Jack nodded. "That bench isn't as comfortable as it looks. I was thinking   
of stretching out on the grass for a bit. Wanna join me?"

"I don't know." Daniel replied, his suspicious scowl melting into a look of mild   
annoyance as he apparently decided how to interpret the offer. "Awful lot of dogs around.   
It might not be as comfortable as it looks either."

Jack cast a quick glance at the ground checking for smelly little surprises, but   
when he looked up fully prepared with a sarcastic remark he saw that Daniel had his eyes   
closed and a hand to his head.

"You alright?" He asked, dropping the attempt at pretending that his approach had   
been due to anything other than concern.

"I, uh," Daniel swallowed "I'm a little dizzy."

"Take it easy." Jack said, a hand on his shoulder, Daniel suddenly swaying   
dangerously beside him. "Here, have a seat." He added, grabbing his good arm and   
guiding him to the ground.

Daniel collapsed beside him only slightly less graciously than in a heap, his pale   
skin suddenly clammy. 

"Here, why don't you lie down." Jack offered. "Things tend to spin less that way."

Daniel nodded and poured himself onto his back in a nearly boneless motion.

"Shall I retrieve Dr. Frasier?" Teal'c offered.

"No!" Daniel replied instantly. "I mean, I'll be fine."

"Let's just give it a minute, T." Jack agreed not wanting to alarm Janet   
unnecessarily. She'd had more than enough trauma in the past week and he saw no   
reason to add more unless it was absolutely necessary. "Any better?" He asked, crouching   
down to the grass and eyeing Daniel critically.

"What's wrong? Daniel, are you ok?" Cassie asked, suddenly appearing in the   
group, Jellybean's mangled rubber ball clutched in her hand.

"He's fine, Cass." Jack assured her calmly, a hand on her arm. "He's just a little   
tired."

"I'm not a baby, Uncle Jack." She replied, annoyance clear in her tone and on her   
face. "He doesn't look tired, he looks sick."

"I'm ok, Cass." Daniel chimed in, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I think it's just   
too much excitement. I'll be ok in a minute."

"Want me to get Mom?"

"No." Daniel replied instantly. "I'll be ok. I just need to rest for a minute. Why   
don't you and Teal'c go play with Jellybean."

Cassie stood eyeing him for a long moment before finally agreeing to play along   
and go back to entertaining her dog.

"She gets more like her mother every day." Jack sighed.

"I know." Daniel smiled. 

"Any better?" Jack asked again, nodding toward Daniel.

"A little."

"Good because I'm thinking we don't really want to have you stretched out on the   
grass when Janet gets back."

"Probably not."

"Think you can sit up?"

"With a little help."

Jack gripped his hand and slowly dragged him into a sitting position.

"How's that?"

"Things are still spinning."

"Give it a minute."

The two sat in silence, neither one quite sure what to say. Jack had never been   
comfortable talking about his feelings or his past traumas. Daniel was good with   
feelings, but wasn't sure he wanted to delve into this particular vat of them so he said   
nothing, plucking at blades of grass.

"Better?"

"A little."

"Good. Think you can make it over to that bench?" Jack nodded toward the   
bench he and Teal'c had just vacated.

"I think so."

With some effort Jack tugged him into a standing position, holding him steady as   
he swayed and attempting to keep an eye out for Janet. One shuffling step at a time they   
made it across the grass and over the paved path until they had reached the bench.   
Carefully, Daniel settled onto the hard, wood surface and tried to get comfortable. He   
might have been upright, but he looked pale and worn and Jack knew there was no way   
Janet was going to miss the fact that he was barely holding on. Time for plan B.

Jack whistled loudly, a sound that attracted the attention of every dog in the   
vicinity, but had been intended for Teal'c. The large man instantly turned in Jack’s   
direction before excusing himself from Cassie and making his way purposefully across   
the lawn.

"I think Daniel's about had it." Jack announced when Teal'c arrived at the bench.   
"Think you can get him back to the truck to lie down?"

"I can hear you, you know." Daniel groused. "I'm sitting right here."

"I can see that, Daniel." Jack quipped. "I can also see that you're about to slide   
right off the bench. I think it's time we pack it in."

"And I don't get a say in this?"

"No. You don't."

"I can take care of myself, Jack." Daniel snarled. "If I want to leave I'll say so."

"Fine." Jack glared at him before suddenly realizing Daniel had a point. "You're   
right. Are you ready to go?" 

"No."

"For cryin' out loud." Jack grumbled. "Daniel you look like hell. You can't feel   
all that much better and like it or not you're about to collapse."

"I'm fine."

"We can come back tomorrow."

"I'm fine." Daniel continued to insist despite the perspiration breaking out on his   
face.

"Yeah, well you don't look it and I doubt Janet would buy that line either."

"Leave her out of this." He warned.

"I know what this is, ok?" Jack replied, struggling to control his own temper even   
as Daniel was losing his. "You're tired, sore and completely pissed off. I get it. I've been   
there, but this isn't going to help."

"Oh and I suppose you know what will?"

"As a matter of fact…"

Daniel glared back at him for a long moment before finally jerking his gaze in   
another direction, jaw set, teeth clenched, hands balled into fists. He was so tense he was   
nearly vibrating and for a moment Jack thought Daniel was going to take a swing at him.   
Instead, he took his balled up fist and dug it into his undamaged eye so hard Jack was   
sure he'd leave a mark to match his already bruised one. 

"I see it everywhere." Daniel growled quietly. "I can't get it out of my head. I feel   
like I'm losing my mind."

"I know." Jack replied, resting a hand on Daniel's back, feeling him shudder and   
quake. However, what he thought was going to be an outburst of angry tears turned into   
the depositing of Daniel's meager afternoon snack on the ground between his feet.

"Whoa! Ok, I think we've had enough fun for one day." Jack instantly determined   
as Daniel sagged on the bench dangerously close to sliding off it. "Teal'c can you get him   
to the truck and lie him down in the back seat? I'll round up the gang."

This time Daniel didn't protest as Teal'c helped him to his feet and ushered him   
toward the parking lot. Jack, thankful for the fact that they had brought two vehicles,   
sent Cassie and her still wound up dog to the car and went in search of Janet and Sam.   
He spent several useless minutes searching the crowd before finally giving up and calling   
Sam on her cell phone. Jack told them Daniel had worn himself out and he was taking   
him home, leaving out the details behind the sudden decision. Suggesting they stay and   
enjoy the sun, he headed back for the truck doubting very much they would. Daniel   
wasn't far enough along on the road to recovery for Janet to put her concerns aside for   
any length of time. At the moment, taking care of him was her number one priority.

Leaving Teal'c to watch over Cassie until the women arrived, Jack headed back to   
the house with a sick and very quiet Daniel stretched out on the seat behind him.   
Thankfully Daniel managed to regain a little of his strength on the ride home and was   
able to stumble into the house with Jack's help before immediately collapsing on the   
couch, pale and panting with exhaustion.

XXXXX

"Thanks for bringing him home." Janet sighed as she sagged into a chair at the   
dinning room table. 

So far the day had been a non-stop emotional roller coaster. Daniel was fine, then   
he wasn't. Then he was fine again. Then he was worse. What she had thought was   
going to be a few days of recovery from his injuries and regaining enough strength to   
take care of himself was turning into something she didn't know how to handle. His   
injuries might have been healing, but the rest of him wasn't. 

"No sweat." Jack shrugged in reply.

"I thought he was ready. I mean, he's been home for a few days, he's starting to   
eat. I thought he could handle it."

"It's not your fault."

"Maybe, but obviously he overdid it. He looks awful." She admitted.

"He'll sleep it off." Jack assured her.

Janet nodded silently, disturbed that what seemed to be the logical next step was   
to call Mental Health and force Daniel to get some help. He'd hate it. He was certain to   
fight her on it and in the end she wasn't sure it would work; especially not if he didn't feel   
comfortable enough to open up and talk about what had happened to him. What he   
needed was someone he could trust, someone he felt he could confide in without   
worrying that what he said would be used against him one day. That pretty much   
eliminated everyone outside the SGC. Unfortunately, they didn't have a psychologist on   
staff, something she intended to bring up with General Hammond in the very near future.

With a heavy sigh, she shoved a hand into her hair, continuing to wrack her brain   
for a solution when she realized it was sitting right beside her staring out through the   
sliding glass door.

Jack was far from a licensed counselor, but Daniel trusted him and heaven knew   
the Colonel had been through enough trauma in his career to be an expert on the subject   
of Post Traumatic Stress. Maybe instead of a trip to Mental Health that was sure to wind   
him up tighter than he already was, what Daniel needed was some time with a good   
friend. Someone he could open up to. Someone who would understand what he was   
going through.

"Jack, I need to ask a favor." She said.

XXXXX

It was nearing sunset when they finally pulled into Jack's driveway, a silent and   
pensive Daniel huddled in the passenger seat beside him and a small collection of his   
belongings in a suitcase on the backseat. At first Jack had been reluctant to agree to   
Janet's suggestion of playing shrink to Daniel. After all, he wasn't a professional. He   
didn't really know what he was doing. However, Janet had insisted that a professional   
wasn't what Daniel needed. He needed someone he could be honest with. Someone he   
trusted and they both knew that equated to a very short list of people. While she and   
Cassie might have been on that list, she knew he was keeping things bottled up inside in   
an effort to shield them from the details of the nightmare he'd barely survived. It wasn't   
helping him. In fact, she was beginning to suspect it was hindering his recovery and if   
they didn't find a way to help him she was afraid of what might happen. She was   
desperate and more than a little worried. 

Jack grimace to himself as he turned off the engine. How could he possibly have   
said “no” to the woman? Forget the fact that she was his friend. She had also put him   
back together in the infirmary more times than he could count, patiently putting up with   
his bad attitude and surly disposition. He owed her a lot. Then there was Daniel.

Daniel was like a brother to him. A sometimes clueless, invariably in over his   
head, smart as a whip little brother and at the moment he needed help. He was coming   
apart at the seams. He was being very quiet about it, but that didn't change the fact that   
he was losing his grip. Jack couldn't just leave him to deal with it alone, especially when   
it seemed he didn't have any idea how to get out of the pit he'd tumbled headlong into. 

Daniel wasn't innocent. Not really. A bit naïve sometimes, but far from a   
stranger to the traumas of life. Still, there was a big difference between dealing with   
death and abandonment and dealing with the effects of several days of torture and abuse   
by people who had obviously intended to kill him in the end. His normal routine of   
forging stoically ahead despite what had happened simply wasn't going to work. Not   
with this. He had to let it out or it was going to eat him alive. On that particular point   
Jack was an expert.

"You alright?" Jack asked, glancing over at his passenger who was making no   
attempt to get out of the truck.

"I'm fine." He replied quietly, his voice laced with anger.

"Good, then let's go." Jack said cheerfully, blatantly ignoring Daniel's mood. "I'll   
get the bags."

He hopped out of the truck and retrieved Daniel's suitcase and a bag of groceries   
Janet had sent with them from the back seat, closing the door with his foot before heading   
for the house.

"You coming?" He asked, sparing a glance back over his shoulder at Daniel who   
had finally emerged from the vehicle.

"Give me a minute."

"You need a hand?"

"No."

"Great. I'll leave the front door open."

Jack smothered a sigh as he strode toward the house. This was going to be a very   
long few days.

 

XXXXXX

In the wee hours of the morning Jack's house was dark and quiet except for the   
light burning in the guestroom. Daniel sat in the middle of the bed, laptop glowing in   
front of him, typing as best he could with only one hand. It was a challenge, but after a   
few hours' practice he was getting the hang of it. 

Sleep had not come easily for him that night. He knew Jack's house, was familiar   
enough with the layout not to get lost on a trip to the bathroom, but not familiar enough   
to be able to quiet his new flock of demons. Every sound woke him instantly, heart   
pounding in his chest with dreadful anticipation of the torture to come. Each creak of the   
house settling or scratch of trees against the window bathed him in a cold sweat and set   
his shoulder aching as if it too could imagine what lay ahead. Somewhere close to   
midnight he had finally given up on the idea of getting any sleep that night and had   
decided to let work drown his fears the way nothing else could. 

A cramp in his hand had him pausing in his work long enough to notice that it   
was nearly 4:00am. Daniel blinked at the digital display on the nightstand in surprise.   
The last two hours had passed in a blur, not that he minded. It had been a peaceful blur   
and that was all that mattered. Had Janet been anywhere nearby she most certainly would   
have caught him in the act by that time and scolded him for working too hard, too late,   
and too long. Luckily, she was tucked away in her own house half way across town and   
Jack was a very sound sleeper. Not that he would have done anything about it if he   
weren't. The Colonel understood the concept of running from demons as well as anyone.   
The better part of a year spent swimming in a bottle was ample proof. The only   
difference was that Daniel's numbing agent was work rather than alcohol.

For a moment he sat frowning at the computer screen, disturbed by the realization   
that he was indeed running from his nightmares. He didn't believe in hiding from the   
things that scared him. He had always thought of himself as stronger than that, yet here   
he was avoiding the terror that now flowed almost constantly through him by drowning   
himself in his work, eagerly waiting for the sun to rise. Then he could sleep, with the   
sounds of Jack puttering around the house to remind him he wasn't alone.

He wanted to be stronger than this. He wanted to put it behind him the way he   
had every other tragedy and move on, but he was tangled up in it. If there was a way to   
stare it down and get on with his life he didn't know what it was. The paralyzing fear had   
infested his mind making it impossible to think clearly, smothering him until all he could   
see was the inside of that hut. All he could hear was the laughter of men who had   
become the embodiment of evil. In the darkness every sensation on his skin was a hand   
meant to hurt him or at the very least the tiny feet of the creatures he had shared the hovel   
with. 

It was better during the day. All he had to do was open his eyes to dispel the   
fearful images in his mind. One glance at a room that was far removed from the filthy   
enclosure and he knew he was safe. It was over. So what did that mean? Daniel sighed   
angrily. Apparently he was doomed to be a nocturnal creature from here on. Working at   
night to avoid the darkness and sleeping during the day where the light could rescue him   
from the terror of his dreams. He supposed it wasn't such a bad thing, but it was going to   
be impossible to do when they were on missions.

The thought of spending the night on an unfamiliar planet sent a violent chill   
running through him and set his heart racing as panic welled up in his chest. His good   
hand trembling, Daniel forced himself to focus on the computer screen and the translation   
he had only partly completed. He would deal with that later. For now he was on leave   
until he healed. Maybe he'd feel better about things in a few weeks. Maybe it was his   
injuries making him feel so vulnerable. Even as he thought it he knew it wasn't the truth,   
but at the moment he didn't care. He'd find a way to push the nightmares aside like he   
had with the ones that had haunted him as a child and the few that still clung to him after   
losing Shau'ri. He just needed time.

 

XXXXX

Jack yawned and stretched and padded down the hall to the guestroom, pressing   
his ear to the door he heard nothing. Apparently Daniel was still asleep or more   
accurately just barely getting to sleep.

For the past two nights Daniel had been up until dawn slaving away on his laptop.   
He was getting a lot of work done, but he wasn't getting much in the way of sleeping   
done. At least not until the sun rose. Jack knew Daniel's new schedule would have had   
Janet throwing a fit, but thankfully she wasn't around and he wasn't inclined to get too   
excited about it, himself. At least not yet. Daniel was trying to find a way to cope with   
things and if working through the night and sleeping half the day was his solution then   
Jack was willing to let him try it for a while. It wouldn't work, but Jack was content to let   
Daniel figure that out for himself.

Jack was no stranger to the excruciatingly difficult process of trying to piece   
together an approximation of a normal life after something like PR5193. In the   
beginning nothing worked for long and everything seemed backwards and out of focus.   
It wasn't until Daniel began to distinguish between his past ordeal and his current reality   
that things would get better. On that wretched little planet every sound in the night had   
been a real threat. The fear of being snatched from his bed in the dark had obviously   
been valid. However, back on Earth in the safety of Jack's house there was nobody   
lurking in the shadows waiting to hurt him. No one was going to kidnap him and chain   
him up in a hut. The worst that was going to happen was him stubbing his toe on   
something on the way to the bathroom. Or collapsing from exhaustion due to a lack of   
sleep.

If Daniel was going to get beyond this he was going to have to recognize the   
difference between a past threat and a current threat and put the two in their proper   
places. PR5193 and everything that went with it was over. It belonged in the past. On   
Earth they were relatively safe aside from the occasional run in with the NID. As far as   
off world travel went, Hammond had already put new security measures in place to   
ensure that nothing like this ever happened again. How did that saying go? That was   
then, this is now. It was a simple concept, but Jack was well aware just how difficult it   
was to put into practice. None of this was going to be easy for Daniel. Unfortunately he   
had no choice if he was ever going to get on with his life.

Jack stepped away from the guestroom door and headed for the shower. He   
would let Daniel sleep for a few hours and then wake him up. If he expected Jack to just   
stand by and let him hide from this he was sorely mistaken. Friends didn't let friends   
wallow in misery.

 

XXXXX

 

Jack removed the cup of soup from the microwave and set it on the kitchen   
counter to cool before making his way across the house to the guestroom. It was just   
after 12:00 and time for Daniel to get up. He'd already missed breakfast and had barely   
touched his dinner the night before. Jack was not about to let him sleep through lunch. 

One of the few things Janet had made him promise before they'd left was that he   
would make it a point to get Daniel to eat. His appetite at this stage was touch and go   
and it had her worried. So worried, in fact, that she was reluctantly toying with the idea   
of putting him back in the infirmary. None of them wanted that, but he was coming close   
to leaving her no choice.

Making no effort to disguise his approach, Jack whistled his way down the hall   
and opened the guestroom door without knocking. Daniel was sound asleep, tangled up   
in his sheets, obviously not resting peacefully. Jack called his name, but the steady rise   
and fall of Daniel's chest remained unchanged. 

"Come on, Rip Van Whosits, up and at 'em." Jack coaxed as he reached out and   
gently gripped on of Daniel's bare ankles intending to jostle him awake.

Instantly Daniel came to life. Jerking awake with a startled yelp and tearing his   
leg free of Jack's tentative grasp, he scuttled frantically toward the other end of the   
mattress, curling into a tight ball and pressing himself against the headboard. Eyes wild,   
breath coming in gasps he was the picture of unrestrained panic. Jack, having jumped   
back at the sudden movement, was breathing a bit heavily himself, taken completely by   
surprise at the reaction. 

"Take it easy, Daniel." He said, his voice low and calm despite his pounding   
heart. "It's just me."

Daniel swallowed hard and swept his glance anxiously across the room as if   
verifying the statement.

"Nobody here, but me." Jack assured him, watching as the tension in his friend's   
body slowly began to ease. "Didn't mean to scare you, but it's time to get up. It's almost   
noon." Jack explained feeling suddenly awkward and making a mental note to find   
another way to rouse Daniel in the future; something less stress inducing, like an air horn.

"What?" Daniel replied in confusion.

"Noon." Jack repeated. "As in, the day is half over already. Time to get up."

"Oh, uh, ok." He nodded, studying the disheveled bed as though trying to figure   
out what had happened. Absently he rubbed at his wounded and still restrained arm with   
a shaking hand.

"I've got lunch and drugs in the kitchen." Jack announced.

Daniel jerked his head up and stared at him as if the sudden sound of his voice   
had startled him

"You alright?"

"I, uh…yeah…I…don't know. Just give me a minute."

"Sure. I'll be in the kitchen." Jack replied turning toward the door.

Releasing the breath he'd been holding for the past few minutes, as well as some   
of the tension from having been scared half to death by Daniel's reaction, he retraced his   
steps back across the house.

It was close to twenty minutes later when Daniel finally appeared in the kitchen,   
his t-shirt, sweats and hair rumpled from sleep. He was calmer, but the persistent scowl   
he'd been wearing for over a week still wrinkled the space low on his forehead. Jack   
reheated the soup and tossed some bread in the toaster for Daniel before making himself   
a sandwich.

"Get some work done last night?" He asked casually.

"A bit."

Jack nodded. "Find anything interesting?" He asked, cringing at the thought of   
the hour-long dissertation he might end up with if he kept digging for details, but wanting   
to get Daniel talking just the same.

Daniel smiled in his direction. "You really want me to tell you?"

"Not unless you have to." Jack grimaced. "So, how long are you going to keep   
this up?"

"Keep what up?"

"This vampire impersonation thing you've got going. Up all night, sleeping all   
day…"

"I don't know." Daniel shrugged, the smile sliding from his face. "A while."

"Gonna make it hard to stay awake on missions."

"I guess I'll worry about that when it comes."

"Why not worry about it now? Unless you're planning to resign or something."

"Hadn't really thought that far ahead."

"I can tell." Jack pressed.

"I've been a little distracted with other things." Daniel replied defensively.

"That's a word for it." Jack said before taking a bite of sandwich, his hip rested   
casually against the counter. The chiming of the microwave interrupted their   
conversation. "Soup's done." He mumbled around the mouthful of food.

Daniel got up and stalked across the kitchen, gathering the pieces of his own   
lunch.

"You're going to have to deal with this sooner or later, Daniel." Jack informed   
him.

"Later." Daniel stated tightly.

"Look," Jack swallowed, managing to briefly catch Daniel's eye as he carried the   
steaming mug of soup back to his place at the breakfast bar "you can't outrun this. Trust   
me."

"I know that." Daniel sighed heavily in his chair.

"So why not get it out of your system now?"

"Because I don't want to talk about it." Daniel snapped. "Would you?"

"No, I wouldn't." Jack readily admitted. "But pretty soon you're not going to have   
a lot of choice in the matter. You can either start to let it go now or you can spill your   
guts from the comfort of a cot in Mental Health. Your choice."

Instantly Daniel's head came up, blue eyes glaring at him with an intensity Jack   
could only inspire once in a blue moon. It wasn't easy to drill down past Daniel's   
immense supply of patience. That was, unless you knew exactly where to set the drill.

"That's not a threat." Jack assured him. "It's a prediction."

Daniel swallowed hard, returning his gaze to the mug in front of him.

"You really want to hear this?" He asked quietly after several long minutes.

"I really want you to get it off your chest, yes."

Daniel's mouth twitched in a weak attempt at a smile at Jack's almost complete   
sidestepping of the question.

"They said I was disturbing the spirits of their ancestors…being at the ruins." He   
began quietly. "I told them I was just trying to understand their history, but…" He   
shrugged with his good shoulder.

"How did they get you out of camp?" Jack asked, finally voicing a question they   
had all been pondering for weeks.

"I'm pretty sure they drugged me." He said. "I don't remember much about that   
night, but my head was fuzzy for a long time after I woke up. I kept seeing things,   
hearing things. At first I thought they were goa'uld." He snorted, attempting to laugh at a   
notion that wasn't really all that funny.

Jack waited for him to continue for several moments, watching him stare at the   
cooling mug of soup; one he obviously didn't intend to drink.

"Then what?" Jack coaxed.

"Then…" Daniel shrugged. "It started. They would come in with this piece of   
rope and hang me from the ceiling by my arm and…" Daniel swallowed. "They would   
beat me, usually until I blacked out. Sometimes I'd wake up again and they were still   
hitting me."

"What did they want?" Jack asked, reluctantly being dragged into the tale.

"Nothing." Daniel shook his head. "They asked me questions in the beginning, but   
they didn't really want answers. They'd ask me over and over again why I thought I was   
allowed to break their sacred rules. Why I thought I didn't need to respect the ancestors.   
After the first day I stopped trying to explain."

Jack unconsciously took another bite of sandwich and stood staring for a moment   
at the food in his hand before abandoning it on the counter with Daniel's soup. Suddenly   
he wasn't hungry either.

"They were going to kill me." Daniel admitted quietly.

"No they weren't." Jack protested. "You would have held on until we got there no   
matter how long it took."

"I heard them say it." Daniel replied. "The night before you found me. They were   
arguing about how to do it. Whether they should cut off my hands and leave me to bleed   
to death or just hang me from a tree outside…leave my body as a warning." He pushed   
the mug away and sat back in the chair, his good hand falling into his lap, chin drooping   
toward his chest. "They couldn't decide. They came back the next morning and I   
thought…" His breath hitched in his chest. "I was almost relieved when they tied me to   
the ceiling again."

Daniel choked on the last few words before dissolving into a mass of tears and   
trying to curl himself into a ball in the chair. Jack strode around the counter and put an   
arm around him, in a useless attempt to comfort him, Daniel's head held to his chest as   
his friend sobbed. He knew there was nothing he could say or do to make it better. What   
sorry attempt at words could you use after hearing something like that? 

Besides, he was having enough trouble keeping his own emotions in check,   
though crying was the furthest thing from his mind. Clamping down on the anger enough   
to keep from crushing Daniel in his grip, Jack tried unsuccessfully to sweep the images   
from this mind. He didn't want to remember the heart stopping moment when he had   
pushed open the door of the hut, P-90 held securely in his grip. Even before they had   
stepped inside his heart had already been racing in anticipation of what he was sure they   
would find. The combined force of the smell of that putrid little room and the sight of   
Daniel had nearly sent him staggering backwards into Teal'c. There were no words to   
describe the scene. Even now, weeks later, there weren't any that could accurately detail   
that moment of sickening horror and the feeling that had bloomed in him with such force   
that for an instant he had considered finding a nice, quiet place to throw-up. 

The first thing he had noticed was that Daniel's boots were gone, most likely   
donated to one of his captors. Despite the chain around his ankle that would have   
restricted his movement to mere inches from the wall, his feet were filthy as if he had   
been endlessly pacing the dirt floor. Jack didn't know why that particular detail had stuck   
in his head when dirty feet had been the least of Daniel's problems.

While his pants were relatively in tact, Daniel's shirt had been nothing more than   
a tattered rag still attached to his body by the determined stitching of his collar. His bare   
back, clearly visible as he lay in an unconscious heap on the floor, was a bloody mess of   
angry welts and open wounds still fresh enough to be glistening in the light coming   
through the door. He had been breathing, but Jack had knelt down beside him to check   
for a pulse just the same. His skin had been only slightly warm, his pulse a timid   
trembling under Jack's fingers.

Shaking the scene from his head Jack forced himself back to the present, standing   
in his kitchen, a shuddering Daniel sniffling, but no longer crying in the chair beside him. 

"I'm sorry." Daniel offered quietly, swiping at his nose with his hand.

"Nothing to be sorry about." Jack shrugged, uncomfortable with the statement and   
the memories reluctantly draining from his mind. Willingly releasing him, Jack strode   
through the kitchen and snatched a paper towel from the roll on the counter before   
handing it to Daniel to use on his face.

"That didn't make me feel any better." Daniel grumbled as he wiped at his eyes.

Relief at being suddenly greeted by a surly rather than sobbing Daniel almost   
made Jack laugh at the comment.

"Probably not."

"Then what was the point?"

"To get you to look it in the face."

"Ok, so now what?"

"Now you put it where it belongs."

"Which is?"

"In the past, Daniel. People kidnapping you from your bed and beating you   
unconscious is something that happened on -193." Jack expounded. "It's not going to   
happen here. It's over."

"It doesn't feel over." Daniel replied quietly.

"No…I know." He sighed. "And it won't for a while. Just keep telling yourself   
that you're home. Those guys are gone and you've got a life to get back to. Not to   
mention two women who care a lot about you, but right now are scared that you're   
coming apart at the seams."

"That's not far from the truth." He admitted, slouching against the back of his   
chair. 

"For the moment, maybe," Jack agreed "but you'll get through this."

Daniel flashed him an embarrassed little smile as he nodded to himself.

"Right." Jack nodded decisively back at him. "So…lunch." He stated, retrieving   
the mug from the counter and heading back toward the microwave for a third time. 

 

XXXXXXX

He could hear them coming, disturbing what he had hoped would be a peaceful   
night. The sound of their voices grew louder and soon he could hear the scuffling of their   
feet on the ground outside the door. In an instant Daniel was up off the floor crawling to   
the far corner as quickly as he could, postponing the inevitable for as long as possible.   
His injured shoulder wedged into the cool clay, he curled himself into a ball and waited.

He was exhausted, too tired to even tremble the way he once had. His pounding   
heart was the only part of him still able to function in anything other than slow motion.   
Even his brain was sluggish. For instance, there was something he was supposed to   
remember; magic words he was supposed to say to make the men outside vanish. It   
seemed odd because he didn't believe in magic, but nevertheless he was absolutely   
certain the phrase would work. Somebody had told him so. Someone he trusted, though   
at the moment he couldn’t remember who. 

He had no idea how long it had been since the last session suspended from the   
ceiling, but it couldn't have been long; the welts on his back so new they still stung.   
They'd done this before, the violent men with the stick. They attacked him before he'd   
barely had a chance to recover from the last one, adding layers to the still swollen marks   
on his body. It hurt him more, his resistance breaking down before they'd barely started.   
They seemed to like that.

Swallowing the scream he could feel building in his throat as the door swung   
open he frantically searched the corners of his mind for the words that would make them   
disappear. 

It's not real.

"Help me." Daniel begged of no one in particular, hoping the men wouldn't hear   
and knowing it was impossible for them not to. They were already half way across the   
room.

It's not real

"Please."

He could feel the vice-like grip of a hand on his arm, dragging him up off the   
floor with almost no effort at all.

It's not real.

"I can't do this." He croaked, choking on tears he didn't want to cry, turning his   
face away as they attached the metal cuff to his wrist.

He heard the muffled sawing noise of the rope being strung through the eye in the   
ceiling and braced himself. Giving up on the idea of being rescued in the nick of time, he   
desperately searched his mind for a place to hide; some safe haven in his head that would   
allow him enough shelter from reality to survive one more beating.

It's not real. 

It's not real. 

It's not real. 

It's not real.

The first twinge of his shoulder brought Daniel awake with a groan. His heart   
pounding in his chest, he frantically scanned the darkened room for the men whose hands   
he could still feel on his skin. Scrambling from under the covers, his injured arm tucked   
to his chest, Daniel bolted away from the bed, ready to run, but not sure where to go. 

Slowly reality began to invade his disturbing illusion: the sensation of carpet   
under his feet as he turned in circles, the gentle movement of fabric against his skin,   
furniture shaped shadows barely visible in the early morning light. Gasping for air while   
he tried to clear the confusion from his mind he suddenly became aware of an insistent   
phrase repeating in his head like a skip on a scratched CD: It's not real.

With a trembling hand, Daniel opened the door to the guestroom and stepped out   
into the hall. Treading silently through the darkness he headed toward the opposite end   
of the house not sure where he was going, just wanting to put as much distance between   
himself and the dream as he could. 

It had been a week since Jack had brought him home with the intention of piecing   
him back together. Eight days to be exact. Half that time he had spent alone, his well   
abused body and mind not enough reason to have Jack taking leave from work. He hadn't   
minded so much. During the day he was fine and the lack of someone continually   
fussing over him had been a relief. If he wanted company he turned on the television.   
By the time darkness set in, his fears creeping out with the stars, Jack was home. Little   
by little he was starting to feel more like himself. At least until he had a dream. They   
didn't come every night any more, but often enough that he was reluctant to go to sleep at   
night. 

Daniel stared out into the darkness through the living room windows, Jack's   
forested surroundings nothing more than a wall of impenetrable shadow. Arms wrapped   
tightly around himself and a dull ache in his shoulder he sighed heavily into the night and   
waited for his body to stop trembling. 

He was going home today or at least back to Janet's house. He'd done as much   
recovering as he was going to in the seclusion of Jack's house. It was time to venture   
back into his life. At least one part of it, anyway. He wasn't yet cleared for active duty   
and that was just fine with him. He wasn't sure he was ready to deal with the SGC just   
yet. The thought of spending the night on a strange planet still drove him to the edge of   
panic. Just the notion of stepping through the gate made his palms sweat.

Pushing the thoughts aside as his heart threatened to break into a gallop Daniel   
focused his thoughts on Janet and Cassie. It seemed like forever since he'd seen them.   
He’d talked to them on the phone every day, but it wasn’t the same. He felt guilty for   
disappearing for another week after having been gone for so long already, but he'd   
needed his space. He'd needed time to sort out the chaos in his head. He'd also needed   
the freedom to be in a piss poor mood if he felt like it. Jack was far from easily offended.   
Daniel's surly moods rolled off him like water off a frog's back. 

The realization that he'd been around Jack long enough to have picked up one of   
his pet sayings nearly made Daniel smile. It was definitely time to go home.

 

XXXXXXX

Janet glanced at the clock on the oven as she turned off the lights in the now clean   
kitchen. 10:15. It was no wonder she was tired. Shuffling quietly into the living room   
she found Daniel settled on the couch watching the news. As her footfalls on the carpet   
reached his ears, his head came around instantly, seeking and verifying the source of the   
sound. He was still a tad jumpy. 

"All done?" He asked pleasantly, the hint of anxiety immediately vanishing from   
his face.

"Yep." She nodded, collapsing next to him on the couch suddenly wondering why   
she had argued so strenuously that it was her turn to do the dishes. They both knew he   
would gladly have done them for her. Sometimes her stubborn streak knew no bounds. 

Exhaustion pulling at her, she glanced longingly at the stairs before deciding she   
simply didn’t have the strength to climb them at the moment and settled instead for   
snuggling up to Daniel, his arm around her shoulders.

"You look tired." He commented, stroking her hair.

"Very long day." She sighed.

"Bad?" He asked, studying her face, looking for clues.

Janet couldn't help the tired smile that spread briefly across her face. Daniel was   
Daniel again or at least very close to it. 

"No, just long." She replied. "We had seven teams come back today. Then there   
was the staff meeting, a case of food poisoning, Syler burned himself again…"

Daniel removed his arm from her shoulders and reached over to pull her legs   
across his lap while she spoke. A moment later he was gently kneading her feet with his   
hands, massaging sore muscles that had been stalking up and down concrete floors in her   
heels for far too many hours that day. The whirlwind of thoughts in her head ground to a   
halt at his ministrations and she collapsed bonelessly on the couch, stretching out on the   
cushions beside him.

"That feels good." She groaned making him smile. It was an expression she saw   
on his face more and more as time distanced him from the horror that was PR5193.

It had been three months since that day in the gate room when the sight of him   
lying on the ramp had very nearly stopped her heart. He was thankfully, very nearly back   
to his old self. His shoulder still required physical therapy, but his bruises had faded, the   
wounds on his back had healed and he had regained most of the weight he had lost. The   
scars on his body, the occasional far away look in his eye and the fact that he still startled   
easily were the only testaments to the trauma that remained. That would pass soon   
enough.

Janet listened with half an ear as the news anchorman continued his determined   
retelling of events on earth, things that Janet would have been just as happy to not know   
anything about. Things were tense and bloody in the Middle East, there was flooding in   
parts of Africa and a hurricane had torn into the Phillipines. Sighing to herself she   
turned her attention back to Daniel to find him staring at the television screen with a   
distinctly disturbed look on his face, one that told her there was more on his mind than   
the plight of people running from the wrath of nature. Janet sat up with some effort and   
gently stroked his face, Daniel instantly turning toward her. 

She wasn't going to ask if he was alright. It was an unnecessary question, one that   
would only lead to him telling her he was "fine" even if it wasn't exactly the truth.   
Instead she merely smiled reassuringly at him and placed a kiss on his shoulder. Daniel   
responded by wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly, his grip testifying to   
the fact that there was indeed a dark and forbidding place slithering through his mind.

“Did Cassie tell you about her geometry test?” She asked, attempting to steer his   
thoughts in a different direction.

“Yeah, she got a B.” Daniel replied quietly. “I promised her pizza this weekend.”

“Doesn’t she have a sleep over on Saturday?” 

“Does she?” He asked.

“I thought so.”

“In that case, she might be pizza-ed out.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that.” Janet chuckled. “I don’t expect her to reach   
that point until she’s eaten her way through at least three years of college.”

Janet felt a brief rumble in Daniel’s chest as he very nearly laughed and smiled to   
herself.

“You ready for bed?” She asked, stifling a yawn.

“Sure.” He replied, reaching for the remote and silencing the television in mid-  
story.

Janet always made the assumption lately that he would be spending the night at   
her house. Since his rescue from PR5193 he had practically moved in, staying there   
nearly every night. Of course, even before the kidnapping he had been with her more   
than half the time anyway, not that she would ever complain. Falling asleep in his arms   
was her favorite part of the day. 

Daniel wasn’t avoiding his apartment completely, however. He had spent a night   
or two alone over the past few months just to prove to himself that he could. However,   
he always looked frazzled and worn the next morning, obviously having gotten very little   
sleep. She saw no reason to push him. Especially not with his first overnight mission   
coming up in two days. 

He hadn’t said much about it, but she knew it was on his mind. It would be his   
first encounter with sleeping on a strange planet in very unfamiliar surroundings since his   
attack, Jack having postponed the event for as long as he could. O’Neill had broken the   
news to him a few days ago and since then his nightmares had come back with a   
vengeance. 

Until that day he had been steadily gaining ground where sleep was concerned,   
his dreams coming less and less frequently. Lately, however, he was tossing and turning,   
groaning in his sleep every night. Sometimes he would wake in a panic. Sometimes he   
would settle back to sleep. Either way, he had Janet awake for at least part of the night,   
the lack of an uninterrupted six hours explaining her exhaustion, not that she had   
mentioned that part to him. He didn’t need guilt about keeping her awake driving him to   
sleep alone and turning him into a bundle of nerves. She was, however, going to have to   
start going to bed earlier, she determined as she followed him up the stairs, her body   
aching and her head spinning with fatigue.

 

XXXXXXX

 

Jack cleaned the last remains from the plastic packet of his MRE and swallowed   
without bothering to taste. Most of the time the prepackaged military food wasn’t bad,   
but they just couldn’t seem to get spaghetti and meatballs quite right. If it weren’t for the   
weight of the cans he’d be hefting Spaghetti-O’s across the universe instead.

Tucking the mangled plastic remains in the pouch designated for trash he cast a   
sideways glance at Daniel who was sitting several feet away from him, staring into the   
fire. It had been dark on P7T191 for the better part of an hour and Daniel hadn’t spoken   
more than two words since that time, as if his voice had packed it in for the night along   
with the sun.

“That was pretty good.” Sam announced, wiping at her mouth.

“As was mine.” Teal’c commented, the two having been determinedly attempting   
to keep up the chatter all evening. 

If their intention was to keep Daniel’s mind off the fact that it was growing darker   
by the minute, Jack mused as he attempted to make himself comfortable on the rock he   
was using for a chair, they were going to have to do more than bantering back and forth   
over nothing. What they needed was a nice, juicy discussion (assuming such a thing   
existed) about archaeology. Unfortunately, Daniel was the keeper of those kinds of   
topics and he appeared to have nothing to say. They were all pretty sure they knew why. 

Daniel had determinedly avoided the topic, but they knew he was anxious about   
his first night off world since the kidnapping. Jack could tell by her increased level of   
chatter that Sam was anxious for him. Teal’c was, well Teal’c didn’t do anxious, but he   
was most definitely over protective lately and all of them had been casting frequent   
glances in Daniel’s direction since the sun had first begun to set. Not that they believed   
anything was going to happen. It wasn’t as if they expected Daniel to vanish into thin air   
as soon as the stars came out and there was no way anyone was going to lay a hand on   
him. Not if the three of them had anything to say about it. They were just concerned   
about his reaction to the off-world campout when the last one hadn’t gone so well. 

“What’d you have, T?” Jack asked, joining in the inane conversation.

“Macaroni and cheese.”

“Just once I’d like to open one of these and find a nice, thick steak.”

“Mmmm, freeze dried steak.” Sam replied, wrinkling up her face at the thought. 

“Yep, freeze dried steak and a 10 year old prepackaged beer. The perfect off   
world campout.” Jack said. “Get any cookies in yours this time, Daniel?”

Silence greeted him as his team-mate continued staring into the fire.

“Daniel?”

“What?” He asked, his head coming around so fast Jack was afraid he might snap   
his neck.

“Cookies.” He repeated, ignoring the obviously startled look on Daniel’s face.   
“Get any cookies in your MRE?”

“Oh, I, uh, don’t know.” Daniel said, picking up the abandoned pouch of food   
from the ground beside him and briefly pawing through it. “Fruit cocktail.” He finally   
announced, tossing the dark green packet to Jack.

“Not hungry?” Sam asked him, taking advantage of the fact that they finally had   
his attention, at least for the moment.

“Not really.” He shrugged.

“Who’s taking first watch tonight?” Jack asked steering the conversation to team   
business and inwardly cringing at that look of near panic the topic inspired in Daniel.

“I will.” Sam shrugged.

“No…um, let me.” Daniel replied almost instantly. “I’m not really tired yet   
anyway.” He added attempting to sound casual.

“Are you sure?” She asked

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“Alright then, Carter, you relieve him at 0:00. Teal’c, you take third watch and   
I’ll bat clean-up.” Jack stated. “On that happy note, I’m off to bed.”

“Good night, Sir.” Sam replied.

Sam and Teal’c watched him wander off to bed while Daniel returned his   
attention to the fire. 

Normally when Jack called it a day the rest of them followed, but tonight Sam and   
Teal’c seemed perfectly content to sit and talk about nothing of consequence. Daniel had   
been listening to them with half an ear for most of the evening, his thoughts drifting   
determinedly to his last overnight mission. He was doing his best to keep it together,   
struggling to hide the fact that each and every sound in the darkness had him wanting to   
jump to his feet. Despite his continued inspection of the fire’s glow he wasn’t really off   
in his own little world, hadn’t been for most of the evening. He was listening, straining   
to hear something, anything that would tell him they weren’t alone; someone or   
something was laying in wait in the shadows.

How long had the men with sticks on ‘193 been hiding in the darkness, waiting   
for a chance to strike? Had they huddled in silence watching anxiously as the team   
finally settled in for the night? Had they stalled long enough to give him a chance to fall   
asleep or had that simply been their first opportunity?

He wasn’t going to sleep at all that night. In fact, he had no intention of trying.   
Thankfully this was only an overnight mission. Missing a single night of sleep wasn’t   
going to hurt him. Daniel had no idea what he was going to do when they ended up on   
the next mission that had them off world for three or four days. Hopefully it would be a   
relatively civilized community where they slept in an actual room with a door. He could   
do what he had done the few nights he had slept alone in his apartment, curl up on the   
floor in front of the door to keep anyone from coming in and doze with a full view of the   
windows. He didn’t get much sleep that way, but at least he felt relatively sure he would   
see anyone coming before they had a chance to get to him.

Daniel sighed heavily in frustration. He was becoming a paranoid ball of nerves.   
Despite the months that had passed since his attack he still mutated into a terrified nut job   
every time the sun went down. It was better when he was at Janet’s, but even the sounds   
of the dog’s footfalls on the carpet woke him in an instant.

Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the end of him being permanently assigned to   
a field unit. From here on in there would be an unwritten clause in his contract that he   
could travel off world for special assignments, but had to be back on Earth by sunset.   
Poor, fragile, Dr. Jackson. He used to be a member of SG-1 until he lost his mind.

“You alright, Daniel?” Sam asked, the obvious concern in her voice pulling him   
from this thoughts.

Daniel stared back at her for a moment surprised to find himself on his feet, arms   
wrapped securely around his middle.

“What? Oh, uh, yeah. Just wanted to stretch my legs.” He replied not even   
sounding convincing to himself. “Aren’t you guys going to bed?” He asked with a hint of   
resignation in his tone. Being alone in the dark was inevitable. He might as well get it   
over with.

Teal’c took the hint and stood up. “Sleep well, MajorCarter.” He offered, nodding   
to her.

“Good night, Teal’c.”

“Wake me if you require assistance, DanielJackson.” He added quietly as he   
passed by.

“Thank you, Teal’c.” Daniel replied. “I’ll be fine.”

The large Jaffa nodded at him before disappearing into a tent that looked far too   
small to hold him.

Stretching and yawning Sam also got to her feet, though she seemed determined   
to take her time. Daniel was both annoyed by her obvious stalling and reluctant to have   
her leave.

“You want me to make some coffee before I go?” She asked.

“No, thank you.” Daniel replied. He had enough adrenaline flowing through him   
to keep him awake for a week. Caffeine wasn’t necessary.

“You alright?” She asked quietly, moving close enough to gently grip his arm.

Daniel glanced in her direction without actually looking at her and nodded.

“No one blames you for being scared, Daniel. I don’t think I could do what   
you’re doing after…after everything that’s happened.”

Daniel swallowed and shifted his gaze back to the fire. He hated feeling like the   
weak link in the team, yet somehow he always seemed to find himself playing that role.   
The fact that he hadn’t been trained by the military was an excuse that had stopped   
consoling him a long time ago. The tears he could feel threatening only frustrated him   
more.

“I’m not really all that tired.” She said to his continued silence. “I was thinking   
we could talk for a while or play some chess or something.”

“Chess?” He asked quietly, finally looking over at her and finding a very hopeful   
expression on her face.

“I brought one of those travel boards.”

“Isn’t that against regulations? I mean, I’m supposed to be guarding the camp.”   
He said, touched by her obviously premeditated determination not to leave him alone in   
the dark.

“So we’ll play quietly and keep our ears open.” She smiled.

Daniel couldn’t help smiling back at her.

“You set up the board. I’ll make the coffee.” She grinned.

 

XXXXX 

 

Daniel shuffled out of his tent yawning and rubbing at his eyes. Finally clear of   
the small opening, he stretched himself to his full height, wincing and rubbing at his   
shoulder as he did. It had been well over six months since his kidnapping and for the   
most part his body had healed. His shoulder, however, didn’t appreciate having to sleep   
on the hard ground. It preferred a soft mattress. Unfortunately such a thing wouldn’t fit   
in his pack. 

This marked a dozen nights spent sleeping off world and Daniel briefly   
recognized the landmark as he headed for the coffee pot already warming on the small,   
portable cook stove. Little by little he was learning how to sleep again. He had yet to   
make it an entire night without waking at least once with his heart pounding in his chest,   
absolutely certain he’d heard something menacing in the dark. Or even worse, terrified   
that the sensation he’d felt on his skin was a hand meant to drag him from his bed. Jack   
assured him recovery would come in time and he was finally beginning to believe it. He   
still jumped at the odd noise that caught him off guard, but only about half the time. 

What was even better was the fact that he could now actually manage to lose   
himself in a translation in the middle of a mission on a strange planet without needing to   
feel the presence of someone standing guard mere feet from where he was working. To   
him, that was progress. 

“Good morning, Campers.” Jack announced cheerfully, half empty mug in hand   
as Sam and Teal’c emerge from their tents. “We’ve got a meeting with the wild haired   
chief guy in less than an hour.”

“Laroche.” Daniel supplied absently as he filled his own mug.

“Right. Whatever. Anyway, let’s get this place packed up. I want to be back on   
Earth in time for lunch.”

“Yes, Sir.” Sam yawned.

“The last thing I want is to give them a reason to repeat last night’s feast of the   
fuzzy chicken or whatever that thing was.” Jack grumbled.

“I think they called it a pankeet.” Daniel replied with a grin.

“It tasted like gym socks.” Jack complained.

“It was a little gamey.” Sam agreed, wrinkling up her face at the memory.

“Exactly, so back at the SGC by lunch.” Jack nodded decisively. “Let’s get a   
move on.”

Daniel smiled to himself as he headed back to his tent to pack it up. Meetings   
with three foot tall men who had hair like Einstein and spoke in a language that consisted   
of at least as many tongue clicks as actual words, a mild ache in his bones from sleeping   
on the ground, Jack’s surly morning comments…it was good to have his life back.


End file.
